Genesis
by beamirang
Summary: A Captain is all things to all people. Jim is running on fumes, and it takes more than good luck and nerves of steel to be the leader the crew of the Enterprise need.
1. Uhura

Disclaimer: In the immortal words of Robin Hood 'It's not stealing, just…borrowing from those who can afford it.'

Wow, so am I ever late to the party? This is my first Star Trek fic, and my first sojourn into writing for a hideously long time. I am trying to find my feet again, so if I am a little rusty, please forgive me. Concrit and suggestions are always welcome. I am so (nervous) excited I am twitching right now!

I only just got around to watching the reboot – I live under a rock, what can I say? – but I do remember watching TOS and squealing gleefully when Kirk did/said something that landed him in trouble, McCoy growled and looked bad tempered, and Spock tried to decide whether to wring Jim's neck or save it.

As _Genesis_ is my first attempt to dip my toes into the water, it is shamelessly self-indulgent. Which means lots of hurt/comfort, Jim being a brilliant and reckless fool, McCoy singlehandedly attempting to keep Jack Daniels in business and Spock spending lots of time trying to make sense of his captain.

There's enough hinting at K/S to class as slash, but nothing more explicit than is canon (though that might change).

Anyway, enough rambling. I will aim to update once or twice a week, and I hope you enjoy reading.

The story takes place between the _Enterprise's_ miraculous escape from the vortex, and the final scene of the movie.

* * *

><p><strong>Genesis<strong>

_I look around at the new cadets now and can't help thinking... has it really been so long? Wasn't it only yesterday we stepped onto the Enterprise as boys? That I had to prove to the crew I deserved command... and their respect?_

-James T. Kirk (Deleted Scene from XI)

* * *

><p>Prologue:<p>

In the hours following the destruction of the _Narada _any well-earned celebration of their own success had quickly been put aside in favor of more practical realities. Running a starship was a laborious task on the best of days, and with a cracked hull, no warp, and a large proportion of the crew still nursing injuries from battle, the task of limping back home seemed almost as insurmountable as the odds they had only just overcome.

Out of immediate peril, and on a trajectory for Earth plotted by Ensign Chekov, the weary bridge crew had been ordered to take a much needed six hour break to their duties. As Uhura had stumbled to her shared quarters, she had not expected to easily find sleep, but within moments of slipping between the cool sheets of her bed, the last dregs of adrenaline leached from her system, and slumber had been an almost instant occurrence.

A pre-set alarm woke her with a start as the young nurse assigned to share Uhura's cabin fell through the doorway and slumped senselessly over the edge of her own bed. The sight gave Uhura a stir of discomfort at the thought of sleeping while others had worked tirelessly, but she knew rationally there had been no other option but to take the rest their Captain had ordered.

The young officers on the bridge crew were all hard working and dedicated, but they still had their limits. All of them been pushed far beyond what they could reasonably endure.

It had been less than two days since the moment Uhura had set foot on the _Enterprise_, full of excitement and the drive to excel. Now the seat that had never meant to be hers felt like the only place she belonged, and the friend she had eagerly awaited to discover in the nurse sharing her cabin was too exhausted to even introducer herself.

So much had happened to them in such a short space of time. They were all reeling as they attempted to find some stability.

A quick shower and a fresh uniform saw Uhura fit to seek refreshment in the Mess. Before leaving, she paused to unfasten her sleeping roommate's boots, and cover her with the blanket from the cot. She'd make sure to look up her name for the next time they bumped into one another.

Outside of the quiet solace of her cabin, life on the _Enterprise _was just as she had left it. Crew membered hurried about their duties, looking haggard and frayed, but all sharing the same look of fierce determination. No matter how busy they were or how bone weary they felt, they all took a moment to meet the gaze of anyone passing their way. They had all shared in the triumph over the _Nerada_, and now they turned the same kindred spirit to enduring the long trudge home.

There probably wasn't a person aboard who didn't entertain as much dread for their arrival on Earth as they did anticipation.

Reports from the rest of the fleet were quick to circulate: they knew they were the only ones left.

Uhura quickly pushed that thought away. Soon, she would mourn those who had lost their lives so needlessly, but until then she would honor their memories by better serving those who still lived.

The Officer's Mess was usually a very reserved, calm place to unwind after a long shift. Today, it was filled beyond capacity as it struggled to accommodate not only the crew and their Vulcan passengers, but also the Junior rates whose own Mess Hall on Deck 6 had been destroyed during the attack.

Dozens of caterers were loading trays full of rations and refreshments to be transported out to various departments. Engineering were famous for their lack of self-preservation during a crisis and would be reluctant to leave their positions to seek out sustenance; Medical could probably not afford to spare the precious manpower.

As there was still an hour before she was due back on the bridge, Uhura took her meal to go, and followed the haggard looking Yeoman who was propelling trays out of the hall.

Kirk had ordered them off duty, yes, but he'd not been specific in how they should spend those hours. She was being obtuse, but not acting in contempt, and half looked forward to a verbal sparring match with her new captain should he find offence with her interpretation of his orders.

As irritating and brilliant as Kirk was, there had never been a moment in their extremely volatile relationship where Uhura hadn't enjoyed arguing with him.

Stepping out the turbolift with the young Yeoman, Uhura was suddenly confronted with the booming baritone of the ship's acting Chief Medical Officer. People joked that you could hear McCoy from the other-side of space, he liked to bellow so much, and it was only armed with the knowledge that this was actually his normal behavior that saved Uhura from the same nervous twitch of fear that overcame the Yeoman beside her.

She smiled over at the Yeoman. "His bark is worse than his bite." An attempt to reassure was shot out of the water when a nurse, surely old enough to withstand a good tongue-lashing, practically ran them both over in his haste to escape from the line of fire.

"I'm a doctor, not a goddamn kindergarten teacher! Act your age, man!"

McCoy was in the middle of a spectacular rant as he shot from one patient to the other, overseeing the diagnostics made by his staff, and making his own where necessary. If he had seen any sleep since they had first left Earth's orbit, it didn't look like it had done him any good. His face was lined with stress and shadowed with stubble he usually kept clean-shaven.

Through the course of her interaction with Kirk over the last few years – as limited as she attempted to keep it – Uhura had come to believe that the friendship the doctor shared with the maverick Cadet Kirk was genuine and caring. She wondered then why Kirk had not ordered McCoy to take rest as he had so firmly done with the Command Crew.

"You there. Uhura." She'd been standing there staring at the chaos in Medical for so long that the Yeoman had already moved towards the back of the Bay, and Uhura had been loitering in the middle of the room like some kind of senseless moron. McCoy had spotted her and with an intimidating scowl on his face, was marching towards her, waving his tricorder like a bat. "Where the hell is Jim? The idiot isn't answering his comm."

Uhura hesitated, feeling frustrated and slightly slow as she tried to interpret the source for McCoy's impressive ire. "Do you need the Captain for something?" Instead of trying to answer a question she didn't know the answer to – Kirk hadn't been in the Mess Hall, so maybe he was still sleeping? – she posed one of her own. It was a deflection that usually only worked on the very young or the very stupid, and the good doctor was neither.

"The _Captain_ was due on one of my biobeds six hours ago, stubborn little shit that he is. I swear to god, I don't understand that kid's aversion to hypos when he's happy to just stand there and let people punch him in the _don't use that one you senseless moron!"_ It took a second for Uhura to realize that McCoy was shouting the last part of his run on sentence to someone on the other side of the room. By the time she recovered, the doctor was already moving off to the next problem, but he turned one last time and pinned Uhura down with a fierce gaze. "I don't care what you have to do, but you get Jim Kirk in here pronto, we clear Lieutenant?"

It was the first time she had ever heard McCoy address a junior officer by their rank, and not some gruff but affectionate moniker. The seriousness of his request made her snap her heels and fight the urge to salute. "Yes sir!"

Kirk and McCoy might have their own little idiosyncrasies when it came to their friendship, but if it came down between dealing with an irate Doctor McCoy, or a disgruntled Jim Kirk, she'd take the Captain any day of the week.

* * *

><p>"Computer, locate Captain Kirk."<p>

"_No such crew member exists."_

After failing to find Kirk on the bridge, Uhura had turned to the Enterprise to hunt down her wayward Captain. The sojourn in Medical had cost her the hour she had left on her rotation, and she was the last on the bridge to return to her post.

Aside from Kirk.

At her request, Commander Spock turned and fixed Uhura with one of his unreadable expressions. She could tell just by looking at him that he had sought no sleep either, but whatever had had done in the last six hours had banished the near indistinguishable signs of fatigue Uhura had only noticed out of familiarity.

The negative readout from the computer made more than a few eyebrows rise. Sulu and Chekov were back in their seats, both with damp hair and clean uniforms. Chekov, by virtue of his youth, looked as fresh and buoyant as a daisy. Uhura envied him a little, having caught sight of her reflection more than once on the way to the bridge.

"Computer," Spock addressed the _Enterprise_, "locate James Tiberius Kirk."

"_Cadet Kirk is located in Engineering Bay C on Deck 12."_

_Cadet Kirk? _Uhura wasn't the only one who cringed. Of course. Kirk wasn't even supposed to be aboard the _Enterprise_, let alone commanding her. She imagined Spock would make the amendments now the need had been highlighted.

Uhura wasn't one to willingly shirk her duties, but Commander Spock had taken the initiative to follow through on her attempts to locate the Captain, and she was happy to defer to Rank on this one. The ball passed, she took her seat and began reviewing the Log entries from the previous shift.

When further attempts to comm. the Captain failed, Spock tried another route.

"Bridge to Engineering."

"_Scotty here."_

"Mr Scott, do you perhaps have information regarding the whereabouts and condition of the Captain?"

"_Oh aye."_

They all waited for Scott's answer. Whenever Jim Kirk was involved in something, the circumstances usual promised to be entertaining, if not downright unbelievable, and Uhura would have been curious as to her missing Captain's location even if McCoy hadn't sent her in search of Kirk.

When no further elaboration was given, Spock adjusted his position at his station and tilted his chin a touch to the left. It was as close to a physical tell as he ever got, and Uhura speculated that she was one of the few who could recognize it for what it was.

"If you would be so kind as to expound on the reasons Captain Kirk is unable to respond to attempts to comm. him."

"_Oh I doubt he can hear anything up there. As beautiful as this wee lady is, she can be a bit vocal sometimes."_

Sulu and Chekov shared a long glance over the controls and Uhura shook her head in disgust.

Spock seemed to share her sentiments, for his next statement was practically frosty. "Am I to understand, Mr Scott, that instead of reporting for duty on the Bridge, Captain Kirk is in fact assisting your department with repairs?"

"_Well, he is the Captian, innae? Suppose he just lost track of time." _

"Indeed." Spocks's gaze narrowed. "Please inform the Captain that his presence is required on the Bridge at his earliest convineince."

"_Aye sir."_

"Wait," Several pairs of eyes all fixed on Uhura as she quickly spoke up. If she remained silent now, Kirk wouldn't even need to find an excuse to avoid his check in with Medical, and McCoy would have no one else to come after but her. "All respect, sir, but Acting CMO McCoy has requested the Captain's presence in Medial."

There was no mistaking the arch of eyebrow as a questioning one and Uhura fought the urge not to roll her eyes on response to the near human curiosity on Spock's face. This was exactly why she went out of her way to avoid becoming embroiled in the life of Jim Kirk.

Scott seemed to take her advice as more urgent than Spock's reminder of Kirk's duties, and promptly bellowed into the comm.

"_Captain! Sir. Captain! Oh for the love a…Oy! Laddie! Get your skinny wee arse down here! There we go. Would ye like me to send him to the Bridge first, Commander?"_

Several of the Command Crew looked positively scandalized at the idea of anyone speaking to the Captain so, Uhura included. Then she remembered that the Captain was Kirk, and sometimes insults were the best way to get his attention.

He was certainly the only Starfleet Captain in history who would sooner reply to '_Oy Laddie'_ than his rank.

"Unnecessary Mr Scott, thank you. If Doctor McCoy feels the Captain's presence is needed in Medical, it would be unwise to contradict such a request."

"_Aye sir, Scott out."_

Content in the location of their missing Captain, as well as the knowledge that he could get into relatively little trouble while under McCoy's paranoid eye, the crew settled down to complete the mammoth task ahead of them.

* * *

><p>That was five hours ago. Shortly before handover, the doors to the Bridge slid open with a hydraulic hiss, and Doctor McCoy marched through them looking like a man well prepared for a battle.<p>

Spock saw him first, and Uhura, finishing off the latest transmission from Starfleet, caught only the end of the Commander's first words to the doctor.

"I repaired as much of the damage to his central nervous system as I could, but he's going to need to see a microneurosurgeon once we make it back to Earth. Right now he's stable, and in no danger of further deterioration, which is the best we can really hope for right now. Captain Pike's made of strong stuff, so I have every hope for a full recovery. Hell, he'll probably outlive all of us."

Spock nodded in agreement. "I am pleased to hear that. Your academic references were not exaggerating when they claimed you to be a most able and reliable surgeon."

Uhura wondered if McCoy had any idea how much of a compliment Spock had just paid him. She also wondered if Spock was aware that in doing so, he was making an effort to rebuild the bridge he had so thoroughly burned down between them.

Probably not. Vulcan or not, they were both still male, and notoriously bull headed ones at that.

McCoy clearly didn't see the compliment for what it was, because he shook his head quickly and didn't accept the praise. "Yeah well, he'll certainly live longer than Jim will if I has any say in it. Now where is that moronic sonovabitch."

Kirk was doing a remarkably good job of eliciting colorful languages in those around him today.

"I do not believe questioning intelligence or parenthood is a respectful way of addressing your Captain, Doctor McCoy, nor is it considerate of a friend. That said, Captain Kirk is not on the Bridge, nor have any in this room seen him since last he was on duty."

While Sulu and Uhura did admirable jobs of trying not to look like they were eavesdropping on the conversation, Ensign Chekov did not even bother with a pretense. Uhura wasn't sure if that was brave or dense of him.

Probably the later, because McCoy predictably erupted, and even the feigned pretense of translating the latest transmissions in her Log did not protect Uhura from falling under the doctor's laser sharp radar.

"Didn't I tell you to make sure he reported in?"

Uhura was neither a little girl, nor was McCoy her father, but the wagging finger in his face and the dark, irate expression on the doctor's face made the experience all to familiar to those she had endured growing up. As with her own father, McCoy's attitude did nothing but spark her irritation.

"I did locate him, and the message was passed on as per your request." She flushed hotly, refusing to allow Kirk's own thick-headedness to reflect badly on her own efforts to follow orders. Kirk was a big boy. Did he need her to hold his hand while he went for his check-up?

McCoy spun on his heels and continued to rant, which seemed to be his default mode. "You passed on the message, well that's great, thank you." A sharp spin on his heels, and he was pacing back in the opposite direction. "Do you know how hard it is to actually get that kid to sit still long enough to diagnose a cold, let alone fix up the type of damage he's walking around with?"

"Forgive me, Doctor, but Captain Kirk did not seem to be injured." Spock spoke up in Uhura's defense.

"Right," McCoy's expression was black and angry. "You're forgetting that even before he got the living shit kicked out of him by Lord knows how many Romulans, he did a HALO jump _through the atmosphere of a planet_, fractured five ribs, three fingers and his left tibia, then before the sets Nurse Chapel performed could even cement, he was being marooned on an iceberg, mauled by a giant carnivorous monster and then used as a punch bag by a Vulcan with anger management problems!"

McCoy seemed to say all that without pausing for breath, and the silence that fell upon the Bridge once he had finished was utterly frigid.

The slight against Spock underlined just how far from granting forgiveness the doctor was, but for once the indignation Uhura often felt on Spock's behalf was overtaken by a much more immediate concern.

Kirk hadn't looked any worse for wear when he had sent them all from the Bridge the previous shift. Granted, there had been bruises on his face, but even they had not dimmed the sheer intensity in his eyes, nor the bright gleam of his smile as he had expressed his gratitude to each and every one of them for all their hard work. He had looked, for all intents and purposes, like he merely needed the same rest and refreshment that they all did.

Spock seemed to be working under the same assumptions, for he quickly turned away.

"Computer, Locate Captain Kirk."

Amendments had clearly been made, because the computer needed no further prompting.

"_Captain Kirk is located in the Security and Tactical Department on Deck 4."_

Neither Spock, nor McCoy waited for further information before departing from the bridge.

After only a moment of hesitation. Uhura followed.

* * *

><p>Finding Kirk wasn't as simple as merely pinning down his location from the helpful, but quickly outdated computer. By the time they arrived in Security, Kirk had moved on, but not without leaving a cluster of fiercely determined young crewmembers in his wake.<p>

Apparently Kirk found the knowledge that he was able to attain access to so many restricted areas of the _Enterprise_ while not having any kind of security clearance to be troublesome. Instead of scolding those responsible, he and Chief Security Officer Marlin had spent three hours drafting up new rotations for all department members.

Given how many of them had found themselves in fistfights with Kirk over the last three years, Uhura imagined they would all jump at the chance to prove themselves better than his expectations.

When next consulted, the computer directed them to the forward observation deck, and while they did not find Kirk on their arrival, all three were slightly stunned to encounter upon Sarek as he gazed out into the blackness of space.

"Father." Uhura could see the war in Spock as they reached the elderly Vulcan's side. She waited to see if he would take the moment to spend some time in his father's presence, and ached for him when he quickly put duty before desire. "Forgive the intrusion, but you would not by chance have happened upon Captain Kirk this way?"

Sarek didn't turn from his observation of the stars. His hands clasped behind his back, he stood tall and motionless like a statue of old. "He departed fifteen minutes prior to your arrival."

"Of course he did." Uhura sighed before the doctor could get in with his own exclamation of annoyance. They seemed destined to chase Kirk across every inch of the ship.

"Perhaps you might try the Officer's Mess? He spoke of performing maintenance in the area before taking his leave. Your Captain shows remarkable compassion for one so young and has been inquiring as to the wellbeing of our people."

Spock cocked his head in surprise, but made no comment on the uncharacteristic behavior Kirk had shown. "We shall seek the Captain as you suggest."

Leaving Sarek to his solitude, they doubled back towards the turbolift and sped down to the lower decks where the Officer's Mess was located.

"Maybe he's eating?" She suggested as they exited the lift.

"Not damn likely." McCoy didn't seem convinced as they cleared the corner and found themselves in the middle of a crowded Mess Hall.

They were surprised to see just how many people seemed to be coming in and out, some in groups, and others juggling work they had brought with them.

"Well, where is he?" Faced with an angry Doctor McCoy, the Yeoman in charge of supervising the shift quickly pointed back towards the kitchens.

From there, it was only a case of following the sounds of chaos before they located their Captain.

Kirk was down to his undershirt, and even that was dripping. Standing amidst the wreckage of one of the kitchen's primary Replicators, Kirk had an expression of severe annoyance on his usually sunny face.

Several technicians and half a dozen chefs all hovered around him in a ring, and the dialogue flew thick and fast.

It wasn't angry, or even particularly stressed. Instead, everyone sounded downright amused. "So not a problem with the thermal regenerator, then Captain?"

"Hey man, I never professed to having a clue what I am doing here." Kirk held up his hands and gazed at the malfunctioning machinery with an assessing eye. "Just, you know. Wait, hang on a second."

Then before anyone could stop him, he was shoving his hand, and then his _head_ into the whirling, shuddering machinery, oblivious to the sparks that showered down on both him and the large puddle of water surrounding him.

A loud shout of '_aha' _later, and Kirk reemerged as the machine stopped its whirling and fell blissfully silent.

All congratulatory cheers were cut short by the bellow of indignation that erupted from the doctor.

"What the hell do you think you are playing at?" McCoy's screech of rage perfectly summed up the words Uhura failed to express herself.

Kirk straightened with a jolt, and banged his head against the edge of the broken tech. "Ow! Crap!" He turned as he rubbed at his head, and his expression brightened at the sight of the doctor. "Oh hey Bones! You fancy a milkshake? I think I fixed this baby now."

"No, Jim. I don't want a damned milkshake. What the hell are you playing at?" McCoy had closed the space between them and grabbed Kirk firmly by the shoulders. A good solid shake later, and the confused, slightly wounded expression on Kirk's face might have fooled Uhura into thinking him innocent had she not seen it used on everyone from her Xenolinguistics Instructor to the head of security back at the Academy.

"I must agree with the doctor here Captain, your actions are most illogical." Spock spoke up calmly. "Aside from your lack of concern for your own well-being, a captain should always been available to his crew without the need to launch a search party."

From the surprised start Kirk gave Spock, Uhura realized he hadn't even been aware of their presence, and concern quickly overtook annoyance. Kirk was a lot of things, but unaware was not one of them.

"We're got a ship full of hungry crew members, Mr Spock, not to mention ten times as many passengers who all require sustenance. We cannot afford to have one of our main replicators out of action at a time like this." The serious expression on Kirk's face quickly gave way to a more familiar grin. "Sorry about the comm. though. I'm not used to people wanting to contact me all the time. It won't happen again."

"Crew are able to access nourishment from other locations, Captain." Spock spoke calmly and gave no sign of any irritation that Uhura and McCoy could not hide. The fact that he made no mention of Kirk's apology made Uhura frown. He wasn't about to let it slide so easily, surely?

Kirk didn't look impressed by Spock's logic and quickly shook his head. "In their cabins. Yeah, no. I'm not about to force people to spend what little free time I have to _order_ them to take sitting in solitude because we are unable to meet one of their basic requirements. _That_ is illogical, Spock."

"And what about your _basic requirements_ huh? You eaten Jim?" McCoy hadn't released Kirk's shoulders, and while the captain had made no attempt to remove his grip, Uhura could see the tension growing.

The kitchen staff had all wisely made themselves scarce, and with the noise outside in the Mess, it was easy to contain the unfolding drama between the four of them.

"Don't do this now, Bones." Kirk said, his voice sounding weary even if he did not look it.

"No, damnit!" McCoy growled and gave him another good shake. "How about sleep? You slept yet? You've showered, I can tell that much, but I can see how much pain you are in, even if your own body isn't able to recognize it!"

Uhura looked for the signs McCoy seemed to be able to read without effort.

They were there, but Kirk hid them well.

His blue eyes, often the most intense thing in the room, were even brighter than usual, and the skin around them was finely lined with fatigue. His shoulders, usually held straight and proud, were curved ever so slightly forward, as if he lacked the energy to stand completely upright, or worse, he was unconsciously curling in on himself to ease the pain in other areas.

It was following those clues that lead Uhura to giving Kirk the most thorough once over she had done since meeting him in a bar in Iowa. Kirk had been drunk then. He had no such excuse now for the way he swayed slightly where he stood.

The weight on his left leg was shifted to alleviate pressure on his right knee; through soaked wet from the malfunctioning replicator, the usually sleek lines of Kirk's chest were swollen and out of shape; his pupils were uneven; there was no hiding the way his left wrist hung uselessly; the bruises on his face had darkened to black, and his ability to make them look like a natural part of his persona was rapidly fading.

The result was a very young, very fragile looking human being, and once the doctor was done shaking him, Uhura might have to fight the urge to give him a hug.

Kirk still clung tenaciously to his stubbornness though, and he met McCoy's glare with one of his own. "Have you? Slept? Eaten? I bet you haven't."

"I'm not the one who looks like he's gone ten rounds with an Orion Gladiator." McCoy pushed him away with a gentleness at odds with his tone, and fished out his tricorder. "Now hold the fuck still while I figure out which part of you is going to require the most work and come with me." The medical device in his hands started to whistle and flash the second it came in range of Kirk.

Sensing he wasn't going to win this round – a smart move, seeing as Spock would probably just carry him to Medical if necessary – Kirk deflated and let McCoy work, but not without a final word. "Jeeze Bones, which is it? Hold still or come with you?"

"_Shut up_, Jim!"

They all started at the broken sound to McCoy's voice. Under all that anger and hot air, Uhura had never imagined the doctor could sound so utterly defeated.

Nor it seemed did Kirk. The cocky expression melted from his face. He looked young, earnest and almost guilty as he swayed on the spot. "Hey, Bones, hey. I'm sorry okay? I'll come with you. You can hypo me as much as you like and I swear I won't complain. Promise."

It was Kirk's turn to reach for McCoy's shoulders in what looked like a comforting gesture.

The tricorder beeped as it delivered its report. The data made the color leach from the doctor's face. "McCoy to Medical."

"_Nurse Chapel, doctor."_

"Prep bay six for surgery. I'm brining in a trauma patient for emergency laparotomy. Get me six bags of plasma, 50ccs of Vancomycin and call in M'benga." Uhura understood only a fraction of what McCoy barked at his second in command, but she knew enough to know that any kind of abdominal surgery was serious, and that was without combining any other complications Kirk might be bringing with him.

Kirk didn't seem to appreciate the urgency of the situation though. "Whoah, hang on a minute Bones! I do not need surgery!"

Kirk made every attempt to back away, hands held up in supplication and his best smile fixed like a rigid mask on his face. Even Uhura could see through it to the fractured emotions beneath.

"Your core temperate is high enough for me to classify every word out of your mouth as a product of delirium. So I'd shut the fuck up before I decide to have everything transcribed and put in your permanent file." McCoy was all business now, any sense of personal association between him and Kirk pushed aside with every beep his tricorder made. "Spock. Carry him."

It was a contest to see who looked more surprised by McCoy's request. As it was so difficult to prompt any visible emotional response from Spock, it trumped the wide-eyed boggle of bemusement on Kirk's face.

"What the hell? No way. I don't need to be carried anywhere!" Kirk flailed his arms in an attempt to put some distance between himself and McCoy, but only managed to shift the weight on his injured legs.

"You've ruptured the cartilage in your left knee. You've _fractured_ your right knee. One of us is carrying your sorry ass to Medical, and since I kinda have my hands full already, it's Spock or the lovely Lieutenant here."

The assessment of Kirk's condition was enough to appease Spock's curiosity and and he moved forward to comply with McCoy's wishes. It wasn't as if he got embarrassed, unlike Kirk, was had gone incredibly red in the few seconds that had passed. Uhura was stronger than she looked, and Kirk was nothing but sleek muscle and bone. It would suck for both of them, but in an emergency, she knew she could probably do it.

It would be worth every moment of discomfort.

Her expression said as much. No way would Kirk live that one down.

Kirk seemed skeptical, his eyes darting forwards and back between his First Officer and his Lieutenant. Knowing Kirk, he was wracking his brain for Starfleet regulations he could cite to wriggle his way out of the situation.

"Spock, don't you dare! I'm still Captain, right? Well as your Captain I- _goddamnit_ Bones!

Even Uhura had to wince at the force with which the hypo was stabbed into Kirk's neck. That had to have hurt.

"As understandable as your actions are, I believe he will be most upset with you once he awakens, Doctor." Spock observed, though he deftly caught Kirk as the captain keeled over right into his waiting arms.

"He also said I could hypo him as much as I liked." McCoy clearly didn't give a damn. "Now are you just going to stand there man, or can I actually expect to see my patient in surgery some time this century?"

Spock chose not to dignify the remark with a response. Instead he lifted Kirk into a more comfortable position, and followed the doctor.

Uhura had to run to keep up with the pace set: both Spock and the doctor had longer strides and adrenaline on their sides.

The busy corridors made navigating them as quickly as they needed to difficult, even with McCoy bellowing to everyone to _get out of the goddamn way!_

"Uhura to Bridge."

"_Go ahead Lieutenant."_

"Mr Chekov, I need you to clear the corridors between the Officer's Mess and Medical."

"_Srazu, ma'am."_

Uhura killed the connection and doubled her pace to catch up.

TBC


	2. Spock

**Wow, thank you! I am completely overwhelmed by the response you gave to the first chapter. Thank you so much, really. Since most of this story is already complete, I figured it couldn't hurt to give you another part now. Thanks again for the support, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.**

* * *

><p>Chapter One<p>

James Kirk was remarkably skilled at attracting attention to himself Spock had noticed. As a cadet, the trait had been an unfavorable disruption to the cohesive learning program of his peers, and a discredit to his own paternal legacy.

While their acquaintance had begun only days prior, Spock had in no way been ignorant of Kirk's existence. He doubted any at the Academy were. Aside from a conduct record that suggested the need for Kirk to spend time with a psychological evaluator, the young cadet's academic record was quite remarkable.

Spock's fellow instructors at the Academy had all been torn between exasperation and admiration where Kirk was concerned. Those with more sympathetic temperaments forgave his arrogance and disruptive behavior in light of his personal history and deep potential. Those who were less favorable to Kirk's devious smile were often heard to suggest the need for 'a good thrashing'.

Spock doubted corporal punishment was the answer to Kirks many and varied character defects. His ability to frequently engage in physical altercations suggested that the infliction of pain did nothing to dampen the maverick in James Kirk.

Perhaps it even heightened those aspects of his personality. Spock had certainly been presented with enough evidence to support such a conclusion.

The latest, and most significant was currently displayed in the form of unconscious limbs and shallow breathing.

Attempts to understand the enigma that was Captain Kirk would have to be delayed in favor of a clinical look into Spock's own failure in his duties. As First Officer he was charged with numerous tasks, not least of which was to ensure his Captain was provided with all the tools and supported required to perform at optimum levels.

While serving under Captain Pike, Spock had oft been commended for his faultless performance.

Since officially retaking his former commission, this time under a new and inexperienced Captain, Spock should have been twice as diligent.

Instead, he had allowed himself to become…distracted.

More so, he had fallen into the trap of believing the pretenses Kirk portrayed to the crew without once engaging the observational skills he so prided himself on.

Anyone could see the Captain was in extreme physical distress. Likewise, what actions Spock had accepted as negligence on Kirk's behalf had in fact been inexperience.

Admirable as his leadership abilities were when performing under extreme stress, Kirk had no experience captaining a crew operating in deep space, nor did he have familiar experiences to fall back on. So, acting as he saw fit, Kirk had failed to follow regulations when Spock should have been on hand to offer advice and support.

Though Doctor McCoy was a human most prone to extreme hyperbole, there was logic in his assessment of the captain's condition, and Spock berated himself for allowing it to have gone undiagnosed and untreated for more than seventeen hours.

He was also aware that much of the damage inflicted upon the Captain's body was if not of his own doing, then likely exacerbated by the physical altercation he himself had instigated.

The thought was shameful.

"Put him over there." Upon arrival at Medical, Spock was somewhat taken aback by the sheer volume of people still being treated for various calamities. While he had read the reports filtering in from different departments, the numbers recorded did not support the vast traffic filtering in and out of Medical. He concluded that, much like the Captain, crewmembers were likely delaying vital treatment in order to continue their duties.

Some might call such actions admirable. Spock was not one of them. There was no shame in requiring medical treatment for an injury or condition not of your making, and when refusing to seek such aid placed one in a more serious state of malady, such actions should be considered as a wonton negligence towards their duties.

Spock believed the Captain would share his assessment, at least in regards to the crew. He was a very contradictory human.

Of the three Doctors and nine Nurses, only two and five were present. Doctor Puri had of course been terminated during the Narada's attack. Two nurses were also on the list of fatalities.

As this was his first placement as a senior medical technician aboard a starship, Spock had to profess his admiration for McCoy's ability to maintain a functioning Medical Base. That he had done so as well as performing several major surgeries was only more reason for commendation.

A senior nurse Spock knew as Christine Chapel had arranged for a biobed, as requested by the doctor. Spock followed her lead, and took care to place the body of his Captain upon it with as much gentleness as he could perform.

A romantic association with Nyota Uhura was most useful in helping Spock learn when and where to limit the use of his physical abilities. One careless application of strength could cause great harm and distress to a human, two things he endeavored to avoid.

The Captain…_Jim_ did not stir as he was laid down on the bed. Nor did he move when McCoy took a laser cutter to his uniform and quickly bared a multitude of injuries to the shocked eyes of those who had gathered around the bed.

"Oh my god." Nyota looked horrified when Spock spared a moment to glance in her direction. Her usual expression when dealing with or referring to James Kirk was barely concealed disgust. Interesting that it had so quickly developed into concern. "Why didn't he say anything? Idiot!"

"Hey!" McCoy did not stop his activity to look Nyota directly in the eye, but the tightening of the rhytides around his eyes made it clear his current mood was not forgiving. "It's not his fault. Back off."

That…was interesting. Spock filed the reaction away for future reference. Doctor McCoy was the first to express displeasure at Jim's reckless behavior, but he did not tolerate discourteous statements made towards him.

Fascinating.

Nyota shared his surprise, for she fell silent and did not express further opinions on the matter. Had she done so, McCoy might not have even heard. After baring Jim's swollen abdomen, he began to issue instructions to the team of professionals awaiting orders.

Spock examined the evidence of tissue hematoma evident on Jim's torso. Combined with the distended flesh of his abdomen, it led Spock to suspect gastrointestinal hemorrhaging, and the most concerning for all the injuries being recorded by the biobed's internal computer.

That Jim had remained upright and functional for so long could only be credited to a remarkably solid control of Jim's own neurological processing of pain.

"Doctor, the computer is reporting an unusually low cycle of beats per minute of the Captain's heart. Given his current condition, should it not in fact be elevated?"

Seventy-three beats per minutes were remarkably average for a human.

"This is high." McCoy grunted as he prepped his tricorder. "His resting pulse is less than forty. Gives me the goddamn creeps watching him sleep."

"I understand."

Sensing the window in which Jim could be successfully treated grow smaller with each interruption, Spock made the decision to leave the Captain's treatment in McCoy's hands.

"Lieutenant Uhura, I believe you are absent from your post. Please return to the Bridge and inform Mr Sulu that I shall return in time to oversee the next rotation."

Though his words were not the comforting ones he knew Nyota wished to hear, he also knew that she would take no personal offence from his professional distance.

"Aye sir." She nodded. A last look at Jim, and she left Medical as ordered.

"Doctor, with your permission I wish an audience with Captain Pike, should he be fit for visitors."

Had Jim been conscious, Spock imagined he might have been surprised by the underhanded tactic Spock had just utilized. McCoy, too busy prepping for surgery, did not compute the request at full, but merely waved his arm dismissively. "Yeah yeah, go ahead. Nurse Chapel, prep him with 20ccs of Levobupivacaine and hook up the plasma."

Spock did not wait for further instruction, and made way to the private rooms off the main ward.

* * *

><p>Captain Pike was conscious when Spock entered his private room following a courteous knock. Thanks to Doctor McCoy's skilled hands, the neuro damage inflicted by Nero's torture would in time heal. Until it did, Pike remained a fortunate survivor of a being who had killed more than he had spared.<p>

"Captain Pike. It is good to see you recovering so swiftly." Spock stopped at the foot of the gently beeping biobed and fell at ease.

Bruised and haggard, Pike was by no means well, but his condition had greatly improved since last Spock had seen him.

With a faint smile, Pike reminded Spock why he had been so gratified to be working alongside him. Pike always managed to be exactly what those around him needed, be that a leader, a mentor or a friend. It was a prized skill in a commanding officer.

"Something I have you to thank for, Mr Spock." Pike was inclined against a pillow, the bed elevated for optimal support of the spine and cranium. "Your actions do you a great credit."

If Spock were human, he might have shifted his bodyweight in discomfort. As it was, he did not. "Thanks are not necessary, Captain, but as they have been expressed, I must inform you that praise belongs solely to James Kirk. I see now why you promoted him as you did."

The paleness of his skin did nothing to dim the amusement in Pike's eyes. "He got to you too, huh? Damn it Spock, I need someone to stay immune to that kid's charms." Though his words, taken at face value, seemed like a reprimand, Spock calculated that in combination with the expression of humour on Pike's face, the Captain was in fact making a jest.

Still, clarification would help. "I am afraid I do not understand your meaning. Perhaps you might clarify."

Pike laughed in what Spock hoped was amusement at the situation, and not Spock himself.

"I mean there needs to be someone on this ship – someone with working legs mind you – who can call Kirk on his bullshit." Ah. There. A flash of emotion Spock concluded as frustration. Of course Pike was unhappy with his own physical limitations. Perhaps he and Jim were more alike than first thought?

"While I can assure you I will always endeavour to see that all actions taken by the crew are for the betterment and productivity of the ship, including my association with Acting Captain Kirk," If not before, then from here onwards. "I believe Doctor McCoy is more than willing to, as you say, 'call him on his bullshit'."

Pike rolled his eyes. A very human and juvenile expression on such a distinguished officer. "McCoy is wrapped around Kirk's finger, and they both know it."

Of course. McCoy had smuggled Jim on-board, despite the risk to his own career. But then had he not just seen the unimaginable when Jim had not only apologised to the doctor, but also backed down, however momentarily?

"You believe the relationship between Kirk and McCoy to be a manipulative one?"

From what Spock had observed of Jim, the young Captain was skilled at manipulating situations for his own gain, but he did not seem someone prone to manipulating others around him. Except perhaps his First Officer.

"You misunderstand me, Spock." Pike's smile softened in fondness. "They have been getting each other into and out of trouble since the day they met. Granted, Kirk is often the one starting things, but those two are as thick as thieves."

Spock did not approve of the colloquial term when it was clearly so inappropriate. He remained silent.

"Did you know the Academic Board tried to kick McCoy out in their first year?"

Recalling the doctor's records, Spock had no recollection of such a black mark. He had been responsible for the recruitment of all crew-members, even ones such as Doctor McCoy, who had been assigned to the Enterprise on Pike's request.

As had James T. Kirk.

"I did not know that."

"Hm. Yes." Pike did not look concerned by the matter. If anything, he seemed to be recalling the incident with great affection. "He failed the EES. Four times."

Of course. Cadets were required as part of their academic portfolio to undertake an Emergency Evacuation Simulation as part of their first year examinations. The test was designed to assess an individual's ability to maintain courage and composure during the forced evacuation of a starship.

While Spock himself had found the test to be trite and uninspired, the majority of the student body found it a more daunting task than even the _Kobayashi Maru_. Failure to pass the EES would prevent a cadet from completing the requisite credits to proceed to the second year. The _Kobayashi Maru _on the other hand, as feared as it was, might not so affect a student's record.

That McCoy had failed the test four times was unheard of. "Am I to assume correctly that the Academic Board took this as a sign of his unsuitability for placement?"

"And the rest." Pike agreed. "They gave him more opportunities than anyone has ever had before because the man is a medical genius. It would have been a criminal waste of his talents had he not been allowed to resit for a final time."

"Might I inquire what parameters changed in order for the doctor to succeed after prior failure?"

Pike laughed again. "Kirk convinced the Board to let him take the test with McCoy."

Spock nodded his head. The EES, like the _Kobayashi Maru_, was designed as a multi-person simulation. However, "That would not have any affect on an instructor's assessment of the doctor's performance."

"No. It wouldn't." Pike chuckled. "And he probably would have failed for a fifth time had Kirk not stopped breathing less than a minute after the Sim. started. McCoy was so distracted keeping the kid alive that he forgot all about the test and passed with flying colors."

Understanding dawned on Spock with sudden clarity. He admonished himself for such obtuseness as he suddenly understood the purpose of the story Pike was recounting. "You mean to say Kirk deliberately sabotaged his own health in order to help Doctor McCoy overcome his aviaphobia?"

"He maintains to this day that he has no idea what happened." For all Pike was still smiling, his eyes were no longer lit with the same animation, but a quiet seriousness.

"You do not believe him." Spock surmised.

"I believe that Kirk is not as self destructive as he might sometimes appear. He is not reckless with all aspects of his well-being. Perhaps he simply feels that there are other things which are more important."

Pike had heard everything that had happened on the ward with Jim. He had probably also overheard McCoy and Nyota, and possibly McCoy's endless rants about Jim's 'reckless stupidity'. He understood exactly what had happened today, and he did so without being witness to events, or even leaving his bed. Now, he was attempting to help Spock understand as well.

Spock was once again humbled by his Commanding Officer's ability to lead so effortlessly.

Message received and computed, Spock took note of the change in readings from Pike's biobed. Swift as his recovery was, it would not do to push. "I am grateful that the doctor passed, as it is thanks to his skills that you remain with us, Captain. Now, I will leave you to your rest and ensure that all ship's reports are sent to you by next duty.

"I appreciate that Mr Spock, thank you." The warmth was back in Pike's eyes as he sank back into the comfort of the bed, now clearly exhausted. Spock had not addressed the reason he had sought Pike in the first place, but armed with this new information, he believed that doing so was no longer necessary.

"Rest well, sir." Spock inclined his head and turned to leave. As he reached the door, Pike's voice called him back.

"Mr Spock?"

"Sir?"

"I am truly sorry for everything you have lost." The genuine sorrow on Pike's face was wretched. Spock wondered if Nero had made him watch. "I wish I could fix this for you son, I really do. But know you will always have a home and a family here on the _Enterprise_."

Unable to answer without compromising himself, Spock nodded his head, and quickly left.

* * *

><p>After seeking a moment of solace in the labs, Spock returned to the Bridge in time to oversee the rotation of crew. Nyota made several attempt to meet his eye, as did the rest of the crew. No doubt rumors of the Captain's condition had circulated fast.<p>

It was Spock's duty to contain them where he could, and when not, then smooth over the waters that would quickly become turbulent in Jim's absence.

Taking a seat, Spock addressed the ship, knowing Jim was still in surgery.

"By now you will no doubt have heard speculation that Captain Kirk has been admitted to Medical in a critical condition. I am willing to confirm this as fact, but would like to make it clear that his chances of a full recovery are excellent. You will be notified to his condition as and when information becomes available. Until then I trust you will continue to perform your duties admirably. Spock out."

"Ze Keptain is hurt?"

"Surgery? What's wrong with him?"

"Did McCoy give you any indication how long he's going to be under?"

"Is he going to die?"

"What about Pike?"

The questions were predictable and welcome. Concern for Jim's wellbeing was a positive response from the crew. It was for this reason that Spock did not scold them for their lack of decorum while on duty.

He did, however, hold up one hand to end the endless stream of questions. "Enough. As I have just stated, you will be informed of any changes as they becomes known. Captain Kirk is in the best of hands. Besides," there was a touch of irony in his voice as he spoke, "I do not believe even James Kirk is capricious enough to create us even more paperwork by dying unduly."

The looks on the faces of the crew were quite comical, as they each attempted to ascertain the seriousness of his statement. Of course he was jesting, though perhaps only Nyota could tell. Even she looked surprised.

Spock took her expression to suggest that his behavior was unusual. Perhaps it was. He was not usually one prone to making quips of any kind.

Perhaps Jim Kirk was rubbing off on him?

* * *

><p>The next shift came and went. Spock meditated after taking light sustenance. The temptation to remain in his cabin was strong, but remembering Jim's earlier suggestion that the crew should not be alone during such times, he instead made circuits of the recreational rooms and the Officer's Mess. He did not cover as much ground as he would have liked, for in each new location he reached, dozens of crewmembers would find occasion to race to his side in search of news of the Captain.<p>

Then of course there were the crewmembers who did not even do him the courtesy of searching him out. Mr Scott had reached a record in the last hour by comming Spock nineteen times.

It seemed that as well as possessing a concern for Jim's welfare, the Senior Engineer was laboring under his own guilt for neither noticing Jim's condition, nor stopping him from climbing all over the ship's engines like a primate.

Spock remained perfectly calm with each approach, but eventually decided that eight hours was an appropriate period, and made his way back to Medical.

There he was immediately set upon by Nurse Chapel, who led Spock to the private room next to Captain Pike's.

The sight he found inside stirred strange warmth in Spock's chest.

He noticed the Captain first. Jim lay on his side, propped up by pillows and breathing slowly into a mask that covered his nose and mouth. Even in the limited light, Spock could make out his own fingerprints in the contusions around Jim's neck and wondered if perhaps he had caused Laryngeal perichondritis. He was covered to the shoulders by white sheets, and one of Doctor McCoy's large hands.

Exhausted from the last in a long line of surgeries, McCoy had clearly lost an attempt to watch over his patient. He lay sprawled out over the edge of the bed, one arm pillowing his head, the other curled over Jim's, ready to wake at the slightest twitch.

Spock took his observation from Jim's bio-readings to understand that surgery had been successful, and recovery was anticipated. He confirmed this believe with Nurse Chapel and made his announcement to the crew. After fielding one last comm. from Mr Scott, Spock returned to the Captain's room and settled down into a quiet meditation.

These two men had gone above and beyond the call of duty for the ship: Spock would ensure no one disturbed their rest.

TBC


	3. Chekov

Gosh, I am so sorry for the horrible delay. I was in an accident last year and I've only just started to get back on track with things. The story IS complete though, and I am going to be posting a chapter twice a week from now on. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me! xx

* * *

><p>Pavel Chekov had learnt more about life in the last three days than he had in his entire seventeen years of existence prior. Not just life, but loss, love and victory. Failure too. That, he thought in a moment of clarity, might be the reason why he found it impossible to sleep that night.<p>

As a junior officer, he bunked in a room with three other Ensigns. One was in engineering, and Chekov hadn't seen him once since leaving space dock. He knew the man was alive – had seen his name on the roster Uhura had spent the last shift compiling - but not much more. The third bed had once been assigned to James T. Kirk, only to be rotated to an Ensign in the Stella cartography department – a cadet not on Uhura's list of survivors. It didn't take someone of Pavel's intellect to guess that Kirk would have had a place on _The Enterprise_ under Pike's command, nor that the Brass wouldn't have filled the spot left open on the oversubscribed flagship once Kirk was grounded.

He'd have taken Kirk even at his most annoying and obnoxious, if only to rid the small room of the hollow silence.

Kirk was in sickbay though, recovering well from emergency surgery. Commander Spock had made the announcement to the crew more than ten hours after Kirk had been admitted. Chekov wasn't the only person on the bridge who had cheered at the news.

Maybe The Enterprise was cursed? Only a week out of dry dock and two of her three captains had needed major surgery. The third had watched his entire planet sucked into a black hole.

The guilt he had felt the day before was back, thick and niggling at his gut. As everyone was want to point out, Chekov was a genius and smart enough not to assign himself undue blame when things went to hell. Likewise, he was just as capable of self-assessment and knew exactly when he had messed up. Three days into his commission and he'd failed monumentally. Twice.

First with Commander Spock's mother. The less said about that the better.

And then with Kirk.

He'd known Kirk, Acting Captain or not, had been assigned a room with him. He'd also learned enough of Kirk's character to know that he wasn't presumptuous enough to take Pike's bed, even if he did look like he belonged in his chair. Chekov should have checked, should have _questioned_, and when the empty bed in their room remained so long after they had all left the bridge, he should have hunted Kirk down and made sure he had followed his own advice to rest.

Or at least informed Doctor McCoy.

Instead he'd stayed silent and so had the uncomfortable knowledge that he'd failed both his commanding officers within hours of each other.

Hence the reason he couldn't sleep.

Resolved not to just lay in bed uselessly, Chekov dressed in a clean uniform and peered out into the hallway, half expecting to find it as empty and silent as his room.

Instead it was bustling with life and activity as shifts overlapped and crew members moved about. They weren't quite as smooth and efficient as they would usually be, and there was an air of urgency to every movement, but instantly Chekov felt himself relax into the activity.

He let the ebb and flow drag him down the corridor and into a turbo lift. With no real destination in mind, he resolved to see where he ended up and then inquire if he could be of assistance.

Instead he found himself standing outside sickbay. The doors opened for him automatically and a harried looking nurse was on him in an instant.

"I've not seen you in here yet. Is there something they do to you Command Track Cadets that impedes your ability to seek medical assistance?"

Chekov blinked dumbly, momentarily struck mute by both the nurse's stern attitude and her short hemline. It wasn't until she started to wave a tricorder in his direction that he recovered his wits. "Nyet, I am not injured." He said, hands up in a gestured of innocence.

"The last person who said that to me was bleeding from his eardrums." She snapped, an intent focus on the medical device.

A weak chuckle from the other side of the room saved Chekov from having to stammer out further excuses. "Aw come on Christine, give the kid a break."

The sound of his captain's voice brought Chekov up short. He could feel the grin split his face and he hastily pushed past Christine to get a better look. Undeterred, she followed him with the tricorder.

"You're a fine one to talk, moron."

"That's Acting Captain Moron to you Nurse Chapel." Up close, Kirk looked awful. The bruises that had seemed so inconsequential when they were all fighting for their lives were black and ugly, marring Kirk's handsome features into something barely recognisable. There was even a slight sheen to his blue eyes that somehow robbed him of the vitality he excluded in waves.

Something must have shown on Chekov's face, because Kirk sighed then summoned up a smile that, while a shadow of its usual brilliance, had enough of his patented charisma to settle Chekov's nerves.

The beeping tricorder gave him the all clear. Nurse Chapel huffed and turned her attention to the captain. "Alright then Captain Moron, how are you feeling? Do you need another antiemetic?"

If he could have moved, Kirk would have flinched clean off the biobed. As he was flat on his back and not twitching so much as a finger, he settled for pouting at her instead. "I swear Bones' bedside manner is rubbing off on you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't meant as one." Kirk muttered before turning his attention back to Chekov, who was slowly edging himself away from the irate nurse. "You wanna take a seat Mr Chekov? I'm getting vertigo just looking at you. No, that isn't me saying I want more drugs!" He hastily supplied when Chapel reached towards him with a hypospray. She shrugged and then grinned – a truly terrifying expression – before making her way to the back of the ward.

Chekov scrambled to take the seat close to the bed and eyed the retreating nurse warily. "She is…" He struggled to find the words to describe her. Between Chapel and McCoy, he was certain he didn't ever want to have to seek medical help while onboard.

"She's exhausted." Kirk looked sympathetic. "She's normally pretty chilled. Compared with Bones, anyway. He's a grumpy bastard even on a good day."

"Doctor McCoy is…" Chekov looked around, suddenly nervous and half expecting to be pounced on by the terrifying doctor.

"Asleep, I hope." Kirk said. "I know all doctors train their bodies to go for long periods without rest, but I swear to god he's a nightmare after thirty-six hours."

Kirk had yet to move an inch, and Chekov had to ask. "Are you alright, Captain?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, I'm good, why'd you ask?" Kirk followed his gaze around sickbay and laughed. The action made him wince. "Oh right. Well I'm on the mend. I'll be up and antagonising you all in no time."

"That is good news, sir."

"How about you, Chekov. It's the middle of Gamma shift. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

There was no way for Kirk to know what time of day it was, not from flat on his back in sickbay. Chekov was impressed.

"I…" He lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"Can't sleep, huh? Yeah, I know the feeling." Kirk flashed him a self depreciating grin then laughed again. "Look, can you grab me a pillow or something?"

He had to be feeling decidedly vulnerable like that, flat on his back, only a sheet pulled up to his shoulders. Chekov had been studiously looking at his face, and not the rings of bruises around his throat.

He scrabbled to retrieve a pillow, then hesitated. "Are you allowed?"

"Yeah, Bones won't come after you, I promise." Kirk shifted, color leaching from his face as Chekov helped prop him up with the pillow. As soon as he was settled his whole body seemed to go limp and he sighed blissfully. "Shit, that's better. Ok, so spill."

"Spill, sir?"

"Don't pull a Spock on me." Kirk said with an expression not unlike Chapel's. "You obviously can't sleep and you're clearly not firing on all cylinders if you're wandering around in sickbay."

"Maybe I was coming to see how you were doing, sir?"

Kirk didn't look like he believed him. He obviously didn't know about the standing orders Spock had been forced impose to ensure Kirk was allowed enough peace and quiet to recover. Orders that Chekov was doing a poor job of obeying.

"Right." Kirk said. "Well, okay then. Since you're fine and dandy and all, you can fill me in on everything I've missed."

He didn't think Kirk was all that interested in ship's gossip – despite being at the centre of it all – and so anything Chekov had to say would probably be classed as 'work'. He crossed his arms and tried to look stern, failing miserably. This was a man who had stared down a deranged Romulan without so much as a flinch. This was the man who'd _provoked Spock into a fight_. Intimidation was probably not going to be Chekov's best tactic.

"I should leave you to rest, yes?" He said.

Kirk snorted then rolled his eyes. "Come on man, you're supposed to be this wunderkind genius and that's the best you can do?"

"Commander Spock said you should rest."

"I'm totally resting." Kirk said earnestly. "Laying down and everything."

"Doctor McCoy would not like it."

"What Bones doesn't know can't hurt him. Please, Chekov, I'm going crazy here. Can you at least tell me Scotty hasn't blown anything up?" Drugged blue eyes looked up at him earnestly.

Miserably, Chekov tried to resist. "I don't think…"

"Don't make me pull rank on you." Earnestness morphed into amusement. "Actually wait, this is probably the first and last time I'll get to do that." The words were said without the slightest hint of bitterness and Kirk's smile was as wide and beguiling as ever despite the pull at lips that were split open in three places.

"The Commander will be very angry." Chekov said quietly. As would McCoy, and Chekov was not as bull-headed or carefree as Kirk. He didn't take the slightest bit of satisfaction in angering people.

"How come Spock is scarier than I am?" The pout was back, making Kirk look pitiful and not the least bit intimidating.

"He did try to kill you, sir." Chekov pointed out, wondering if Kirk had forgotten. He had a head injury, by all accounts.

"I insulted his mother less than a handful of hours after she was murdered." Kirk said seriously. "I'd say it was a justified reaction." Chekov couldn't help it. He flinched, and Kirk drugged to the eyeballs and confined to a bed, read him like an open book. "Is that what's bugging you?"

There was something quietly seductive about Jim Kirk, something that had nothing to do with his somewhat legendary reputation in the bedroom. Chekov felt like he could tell the captain anything, _everything_. And that he should.

"I lost her." The words were whispered, but in the empty stillness of sickbay, Kirk would have had no trouble hearing them.

"You didn't lose her, Chekov. It wasn't your fault."

"I caught you." And since he'd done it once, he should have been able to repeat the process.

Kirk nodded. "You did. I never thanked you for that, did I?" He hadn't, but then there had been more pressing concerns at the time. "Well thank you. Look," He tried to sit up and though his face pulled into a grimace he shrugged off Chekov's attempts to help him. "You beamed a half dozen people from an unstable environment all at the same time. You did that, you saved their lives, Spock's included."

"If I'd been faster…" If he'd run the calculations more quickly, added more variables, he might have predicted...

"And if Sulu and I had blown that drill quicker, then Vulcan would never have been destroyed in the first place." Kirk cut him off gently. "We did everything we could to stop it, but it wasn't enough. That doesn't make it our fault."

"No, indeed it does not."

Spock's quiet, serious voice was so unexpected that Chekov knocked his chair over in his haste to stand. "Commander Spock, I, we…"

Spock had changed into fresh blues and stood silhouetted in the entrance to sickbay, his hands resting at the small of his back.

"You believe that I hold you in some way responsible for the death of my mother." Spock surmised, making it clear he had heard enough of their conversation to know exactly why Chekov was here in the one place they had all been banned from visiting.

When he said the words out loud, Chekov couldn't help but shrink back. He was surprised when Kirk's knuckles brushed against his side in a silent gesture of support.

Taking Chekov's silence as an affirmative answer, Spock moved closer. "You are incorrect. The blame rests with Nero and his crew. You performed your duties admirably and it is only thanks to this that both myself and Captain Kirk are alive today."

"That's Spock talk for 'you rock'." Kirk whispered loudly. "I think."

Spock said nothing. That in itself was telling, Chekov supposed.

"Still, I really am very, very sorry." Chekov said, his heart behind every word. He couldn't imagine how Spock was still functioning.

Spock inclined his head.

Chekov took that as a sign to make his leave. He turned to Kirk and said, "I'm glad to see you feeling better, Captain. The Bridge is very quiet without you."

"Yeah well, just make sure you and Sulu don't scratch this girl up any more. Pike's gonna be pissed with me enough as it is."

"Technically it was I whom he ordered to ensure _The Enterprise_ remained undamaged." Spock took Chekov's place besides Kirk's bed.

As he left, the soft conversation followed him.

"Good point. You think he'll remember that?"

"I can endeavour to remind him, should you wish, sir."

The two officers were lost to their own world and it was entirely possible that hell had just frozen over.

Suddenly feeling overcome with exhaustion, Chekov returned to his room and crashed out on the bed closest to the door. Kirk wasn't going to need it.


	4. McCoy

McCoy woke up with only one thought on his mind: Jim Kirk's prolonged and painful murder.

He didn't pause to question the instinct. He had, after all, lived with Jim for close to three years now and that was long enough to learn that when how woke up feeling like shit, Jim was most likely responsible for the how's, if not the why's.

The last time he had felt half as bad had been Joanna's birthday. He'd spent all morning talking to her via comm, and all afternoon trying to pass his senior finals. Seventy-two hours of solid work, and when all he'd wanted to do was pass out face first on his bed and pray for a long and peaceful death, Jim had literally manhandled him to some dive of a bar, poured three shots of whiskey down his throat, and the next thing McCoy knew, he was waking up with a pair of curvaceous twins, his thesis being read on speaker by the computer in a flat monotone.

Jim, damn him to hell and back, had bounced into the dorm while McCoy was attempting to drown himself in the shower, fresh as a daisy and covered with hickies he later admitted had been the result of a rather gymnastic hook up with Gaila.

Jim had met his match in that one – never had McCoy encountered a woman who could go toe to toe with James Kirk in both obnoxious cheer and sexual promiscuity.

Thoughts of his best friend's on again-off again-who the hell knew lover brought McCoy up short. He jerked into full consciousness and banged his head off a shelf he had never installed over his bed.

Swearing, he called on the lights.

Not his bed. He was on the couch in Doctor Puri's office. Doctor Puri, who was dead.

The last three days came flooding back, along with a strange combination of nausea and hunger. His blood sugar must be in the basement.

The crack of his spine and shoulders told him he was far too old to be sleeping on the couch but he'd given up his single room –perks of a rank he didn't care much for – to members of the Vulcan Council.

He'd need coffee. Coffee and food. First though, to see if the reckless and idiotic ball of insanity and dumb luck that called itself James Kirk had stayed where McCoy left him.

It wouldn't be the first time McCoy had given him orders to rest only for Jim to develop a sudden and acute deafness.

He'd give the man his dues though. Stepping out into the overcrowded and understaffed sickbay, and Jim was there, right where McCoy had left him in the private booth.

He wasn't resting. God forbid it. But he was still in bed, and he did look slightly better than he had last night.

Of course last night he'd been bleeding from his internal organs and McCoy had been forced to restart his heart three times. So it wasn't an improvement on much.

"Is it too much to ask for you to actually do as you're told?" McCoy replicated a cup of coffee before steering his way to check the vitals displayed above Jim's head. White blood cell count was still sky high. The exact opposite of his blood pressure.

"Hey Bones!" Jim looked absolutely delighted to see him, but then he usually did. He reminded McCoy of a puppy in those regards; as pleased to see you after ten minutes apart as he was ten weeks. The PADD resting in his lap reflected a bright glow on his face, highlighting the black eyes and the sharp hollows of his cheeks. He'd make sure someone brought the kid some food. And watched him eat it. Trying to get Jim to eat when he was stressed or overexcited was like leading a horse to water only to find the damn creature was hydrophobic. The apple he'd played with during the Kobayashi Maru was the first and last thing he'd seen Jim eat in days.

"You better be playing chess on that thing." McCoy threatened. He let a tricoder run its analysis, but like the old sawbones Jim accused him of being, he took the pulse by hand. Jim's skin was still overly warm to the touch.

"Totally chess." Jim lied easily, as if they both couldn't see the Starfleet Logo illuminated on screen.

"Really? Because it looks to me like it's the casualty list Uhura received from Fleet yesterday."

The act dropped like a stone. Jim's eyes suddenly looked terribly old in his young face. "There are so many names on here, Bones. It's taking me hours to read them. I don't…I know I should make an announcement to the crew. Someone has to."

"Let Pike." McCoy said quickly. No way in hell was he letting Jim read out every single name on that list. Not when he knew the kid would take personal responsibility for them all. Not when so many of them were friends as well as colleagues."

"You clearing him for duty?" Jim asked hopefully. "He's ok?"

McCoy hesitated. He couldn't lie to Jim, but goddamnit he wanted to banish that haunted old man look from his friend's eyes. "No Jim. He needs specialist care. I can only do so much for him here."

"You're the best surgeon there is." Jim scoffed, completely confident in his belief in McCoy. "If you can't help him, who can?"

"I'm a trauma surgeon, Jim." McCoy said with exasperation and not a small amount of fondness. "Not a neuroscientist. Whatever that parasite did to him, his brain is firing off all kinds of signals that his body doesn't know how to interoperate. He's awake, he's coherent, but I can't in good conscience clear him for duty, even if his body was capable of bearing the stress."

"So it has to be me." Jim carefully ignored the implied finality of Pike's condition. Even McCoy wasn't quite sure how their relationship worked. All he did know was that Christopher Pike was the only 'adult' Jim seemed to hold any genuine respect for. Pike, likewise, was one of the few people who looked at Jim and saw what McCoy did: a pain in the ass, know it all brat with a heart of gold and so, so much potential.

So few people believed in Jim that he'd do anything not to disappoint the ones who did. McCoy had learned that the hard way.

"Let Spock do it." He suggested, knowing as soon as the words were aired that he was being unfair and not a small amount cruel. Jim just looked at him, unimpressed and as stubborn as a mule. "Alright fine, but you're going to eat something first. And don't think this is me clearing you for duty because it isn't. You make the announcement from this bed, or you let Spock do it."

History had proved that he never got a 'yes Bones' from one of his ranted orders, but the quiet acquiescence was perhaps the closest he would come.

Grumbling to himself and knowing he wouldn't have the heart to listen to what Jim was about to do, McCoy fetched him an orange juice and a bowl of soup and held the PADD hostage until both were devoured. Then, as Jim opened up a comm to Uhura to be patched shipwide, McCoy began the check on his other patients and told himself he was doing his job. He wasn't abandoning Jim again.

"_Midshipman Jasper McCreedy. USS Richter. Ensign Elspbeth McKintosh. USS Farragut. Commander Md'efzy, No'o'an. USS Richter._"

McCoy returned to Jim's side after an hour of reading out the list. His voice had remained strong so far but it began to rasp, a combination of dehydration and a swollen larynx. Jim looked absolutely wrecked but he struggled on, pausing only when McCoy all but shoved a straw into his mouth and forced him to drink. The result was a half choked back, hacking cough and a dark glare fired his way. As soon as Jim got his breath back, he continued.

"Lieutenant Christian Mel, USS Enterprise. Ensign Gaila Me'lei. USS Farragut."

Jim's expression didn't fracture. McCoy couldn't stand to look at him.

Another hour later, just when he thought he couldn't bare it a second longer, Spock stormed into sickbay. His expression was as placid as ever, but the haste in his step gave away his urgency.

Jim's fingers had started to shake against the PADD, but he finally spoke the last name on the list.

"I know you have all lost someone you hold dear. Not just colleagues, but friends and family. Loved ones. And things seem pretty bleak. Now is not the time to be alone. Look to the person beside you and know that they are right there with you, one hundred percent. It's going to take time, and its going to be hard, but we are _not_ cowed, we are _not_ broken. And while we will never forget, we will not let this tragedy define us. Kirk out."

Spock didn't wait a second longer. He snatched the PADD from Jim's trembling fingers. McCoy loaded up a sedative.

The manic sheen was back in Jim's eyes but he looked at Spock with something close to horror. "Wha – I told Uhura to patch the feed through to crew decks only. She did, right? I didn't want your people to have to listen to that. I'm sorry Spock, I should have…"

"You will be silent, Captain." Spock said, not unkindly, but without any inflection at all to indicate his mood.

Miracle of miracles, Jim obeyed. He even stayed still long enough for McCoy to load him up with enough sedatives to keep an elephant down for a week. It should have been more than enough to keep Jim under for a few hours.

"Next time your doctor tells you 'no', listen to him, yes?" McCoy snapped. "Otherwise the letters after his name might as well just be there for decoration."

"Do you always refer to yourself in the third person, Doctor?" Spock sounded genuinely curious. McCoy took that to mean he was being mocked.

"Oh shut it." He grumbled to Spock, then, "Stop fighting the damn meds, Jim. Irresponsible, reckless…"

He didn't mean a word, of course. Jim knew that. McCoy had said them often enough.

"On the contrary Doctor, I feel the Captain acted most responsibly today. While unpleasant, it was a duty that needed to be performed, and he could easily have delegated that responsibility."

"To who? You? I know he does a damn fine job of pretending otherwise, but he's not that much of an asshole."

"Myself." Spock agreed. "Or Lieutenant Uhura. As Acting Communications Officer, it could have fallen within her remit. Likewise with Ensign Chekov."

"S'my responsibility. Promised." Jim muttered dreamily.

"Oh for christsake Jim, sleep already."

McCoy took Jim's hand and squeezed it firmly. For Jim's sake, so he knew he was not alone, and not because McCoy had been fighting tears of hysteria and exhaustion since waking.

"Wai…Spock where'sa PADD?"

"Jim!"

"Please Spock."

Curse those baby blues. And curse the Vulcan for not having a stronger constitution.

The XO passed his Captain the PADD. Jim clumsily podded at the screen. Then Jim spoke haltingly. "Kirk ta bridge."

"Sulu here."

'Uhuua?"

"Captain?" Nyota Uhura's soothing voice made Jim smile slightly sappily.

"So I'm as high as a friggin zeppelin right now, you could totally tell me your name and I'd have forgotten it by the time Bones' godawful drugs wear off."

"What can I do for you Captain?" Uhura ignored the comment, but for the first time ever, McCoy heard fondness in her voice. Trust Jim.

"Needya to patch a comm through for me. Forwarding you the co-ordination thingies."

"How the hell are you managing five syllable words with the amount of sedatives I just loaded into your system?" McCoy complained and poked at the hypo as if it had done him personal wrong. "Christ almighty."

Jim smiled sleepily. As soon as an affirmative came through from Uhura, his eyelids slid closed. "Say hi from Uncle Jim." He muttered, drifting off into a drug-induced slumber.

Spock's face was expressionless as he handed McCoy the screen. McCoy could feel his eyebrows pull tight in confusion until the connection Uhura was patching cleared through and the sweet, clear voice of the most precious being in the universe filled McCoy's ears.

"_Daddy_!"

Goddamn, but Leonard McCoy loved Jim Kirk.


	5. Sulu

Thank you so much for all the support! You are all wonderful.

The plot actually grows thicker in this part which might be a nice balance after all the cute sappiness that rounded off the last chapter.

Here we have Sulu, who I think is most like Jim in terms of 'emotions….whoahkay I'd really rather not talk about them. Lets just punch each other on the arm and grab a beer…'

There is also a different kind of hurt!Jim (He's a bit like Ruskin's Ice Cream, so many different flavors!) We've abused him physically and poked him in the eye emotionally, now its time to take away his toys and call him names…

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><p>Twelve hours away from Earth Space Dock and the Captain was back on deck to resounding cheers from the crew - and some creative threats from his doctor. He'd overseen a rendezvous with six Fleet escorts and surprisingly said nothing of the overcompensation in escorts. He'd said very little, actually, nose deep in the endless stream of paperwork Uhura kept sending somewhat apologetically his way.<p>

The only words that he did speak were the occasional encouragement or order, short, concise replies to questions and the odd curse in a language Sulu was pretty sure originated from one of the more salty Orion dialects. Bureaucracy was not Jim Kirk's byword.

As the handover between Beta and Gamma shifts ended, McCoy arrived on deck to drag Kirk off duty and while it seemed their new Captain could handle carnivorous ice monsters and deranged Romulans with relative ease, he didn't possess much of a defense against McCoy's lethal aim with a hypo.

"I was just about to leave Bones, Jesus!" Kirk made a mad scramble to retrieve his PADD before McCoy frog-marched him off the bridge. The pleading look he sent to Spock, who was providing Kirk's relief, was met with a blank Vulcan stare.

"Sorry, sir!" Sulu said, backing away quickly, preempting Kirk's woeful eyes before they could actually reach full strength. "You can try salvage your dignity anyway you want, but leave me out of it."

The words Kirk muttered under his breath were no doubt highly unflattering. Sulu didn't hear them, but McCoy did and responded, "Well its your own damn fault. You start behaving like a responsible adult and _tell me_ when you're bleeding from your extremities, and I'll let you pick your own naptimes."

Any response was killed by the closing of the turbolift doors.

"Poor Captain Kirk." Chekov wore his heart on his sleeves and his expression was nearly as pathetic as Kirk's had been. Combined with the thick accent that only became all the more prominent with exhaustion, and the kid sounded thoroughly wretched. "We should help him, no?"

"Hell no!" Sulu said, thinking again of those hypos.

Uhura joined them on the way down to the Mess. "Kirk's a big boy, he can handle himself." She shook her head. Her hair was loose and pulled out of her face by two thin braids. She was beautiful, despite the exhaustion lining her face, and already the rumor mill was on the overdrive with talk of her and Spock. It was a little inappropriate, but such was human nature. Between them and Kirk, the crew had enough gossip to distract themselves with, something the Captain actually seemed to encourage.

Sulu liked Kirk. It was hard to _dislike_ someone who had thrown themselves into a free fall on the sheer off chance they might be able to save your life. He respected the other man as well – again, hard not to with all Kirk had pulled off the last week. He wouldn't however have gone so far to consider Kirk a buddy though, or really the type of person Sulu would want to cultivate a friendship with. There was a little too much crazy in Kirk's eyes for Sulu's comfort. It was a good kind of crazy to have in a commanding officer, but not in someone who had a direct influence on how Sulu spent his downtime. He liked a bit more calm in his R&R.

Sulu imagined that most of the crew would have been in agreement with him. Right up until Kirk had read out the casualty report from a biobed in Medical less than a day after McCoy had removed a ruptured spleen and pieced together his innards like a jigsaw puzzle. There were wonders of modern medicine, and then there was Jim Kirk being a stubborn motherfucker.

Sulu had been on the bridge during the report. They had all sat in sober silence, carrying out their duties with the minimum effort necessary while their whole selves were fixated on the endless list of names being announced by their Captain, rough, hoarse voice and steely determination.

If tears came to their eyes, no one called them out. No one said a word, not until Spock suddenly stood and walked to Uhura's station. For the first time since Kirk had started, they strained to pay attention to something else.

"I am correct in thinking that your roommate Gaila is the same individual the Captain has just mentioned?"

Uhura nodded shakily. 'She and Kirk were…dating? God, I don't even know."

A resounding cringe went round the Bridge. Spock nodded shortly. "I grieve with thee." He said softly, then moved back to take the Captain's chair.

Who the hell was it that said Vulcan's did not know kindness and compassion?

By the time Kirk had finished, his last words ones of fierce determination and resounding strength, Sulu wasn't sure if he wanted to smother the Captain with a pillow just to make the names stop, or break down weeping. Spock had abruptly left the bridge some time before, perhaps to do just that.

Sulu did neither, but found himself spending the night haunting the halls outside of Medical, unable to enter but incapable of leaving.

When Kirk stepped back on the bridge to resounding cheers, Sulu made a point of standing firmly to attention and snapping off a salute. He probably would not have done so for anyone else, or even for Kirk under different circumstances, but he hadn't the words to express his thoughts, so fell back instead on formality.

Kirk had blinked, resolutely stunned, when the rest of the senior staff followed Sulu's lead.

"At ease." He had croaked before sinking into his chair with a sigh. He looked thoroughly shaken and remained that way for several minutes before cracking a smile. "I've heard nothing from Scotty in hours. Please god tell me we still have some semblance of an Engineering Department."

And that was it, subject changed. Not to be not spoken of again no doubt if Kirk could help it.

That didn't stop Sulu making sure there was a seat left at their table should Kirk join them in the Mess. He didn't, but the effort had been made.

Following a visit to the botany labs, Sulu snuck in a few hours of sleep before reporting down to Engineering for an emergency shift. Most of the crew had taken on extra duties, and Sulu had been something of a geek in his school days, majoring in both agrobiology and avionics. He wasn't up to wandering around and tinkering with things ad hoc, but he was able to assist the main department as an extra pair of semi-qualified hands.

He briefly spotted Kirk about an hour after starting. The Captain was being walked and talked by Mr Scott – a man quite possibly crazier than Kirk, god help them. He stayed an hour, during which he climbed up the side of one of the hydrotanks for a closer look at a damaged valve, before Scott shooed him away with a look of mild panic. Good thing too. Sulu's pulse had spiked just thinking about McCoy's reaction.

That shift done, Sulu had eaten before reporting for duty on the bridge. They were mere hours away from Earth, and the tension was palpable. No one knew what would be waiting for them on arrival. The only ones who had been privy to any of the Brass' thinking were Kirk, Spock, and indirectly Uhura. None of them were saying a word.

The remaining hours flew by in what seemed like seconds.

"Steady Mr Sulu." Kirk had his chin propped up on one hand, a PADD balanced on his knee and a far reaching look in his eyes. "It would suck to get this close to home then scrape her up while docking."

"I'm not entirely sure anyone would notice, Sir." Sulu pointed out, accepting the gentle reprimand. His mind had drifted, and they were closer to docking than he'd realized.

Kirk snorted. "I'm kinda hopping they fall for the whole 'it was like that when I got here' excuse."

"Good luck with that, Sir."

"Thanks." Kirk laughed. He hit the keypad on his chair and leaned back, "Kirk to all decks. Prepare for imminent docking procedures, all crew to their stations."

They'd made it.

Before the realization could settle, Uhura turned in her chair. "Captain, incoming transmission from Starfleet." She announced. Sulu would miss her calm professionalism almost as much as he would Kirk's maverick leadership.

Knowing he was about to be addressing the upper echelons of Fleet Brass, Kirk straightened in his seat. "On screen, Lieutenant."

"Aye sir."

The blackness of space morphed into an entire row of Admirals. There were seven of them in total all sat in one long line.

Kirk stood, back straight, eyes forward. Spock had moved to stand besides him in support.

"Kirk." Admiral Archer had the seat on the far right. "I trust you know how to follow proper docking procedure."

Kirk didn't bristle as Sulu expected him to. He did raise the PADD to show on screen. "I double checked everything just now, Sir."

Chekov glanced his way. Was Kirk genuine or mocking Archer? It was impossible to tell from his tone.

"Doing your homework for once, eh Kirk?" Admiral Barnett had just as good a poker face as Kirk did.

"Miracles do happen, sir." Kirk responded smoothly.

"Indeed they do." Archer snorted and rolled his eyes. His expression was more easily translated. He was as tense as hell. "Carry on."

The transmission ended and Spock spoke, "Captain, I believe the file you are currently studying is primarily focused on our most recent progress reports. You will not find anything to assist with docking procedures. If you wish I can assist you."

Kirk beamed at him. "Thanks Spock, I appreciate that, but I was actually hoping you could liaise with Scotty to start the transport of passengers as soon as we dock. I want them to be able to get more comfortable and it's going to take some time before we can do a full crew evac."

"I am the most logical choice to perform such as task," Spock agreed, "however that does leave us back in our original predicament."

"Nah." Kirk shook his head. "Sulu, you know how to park our girl, right?"

Sulu's life just flashed before his eyes. "Yes sir?" Way to sound confident. "Yes sir." Better.

"Awesome." Kirk clapped his hand on Spock's shoulder. "See Spock, Pike picked himself a kickass crew."

"Indeed, Captain."

Before Spock could leave, and before Sulu could entertain all the ways he could screw this up, Scott's voice sounded on the comm.

"Transporter Room to Bridge."

"Kirk here."

"Just a heads up Captain. Fleet's just beamed a party aboard. They've overridden our incoming security. They're headed up to you now." Scott reported.

Kirk turned in surprise but Spock had no answer. It was highly unorthodox to beam aboard without a Captain's permission. "Well that's rude." Kirk muttered. "They really are impatient fuckers aren't they?" Kirk didn't give anyone time to respond. "See, now I'm irritated. And yes, I am a hypocrite."

Sulu rolled his eyes then turned his full attention to 'parking'. Give him evasive maneuvers in the middle of a battle any day. This painstakingly slow process was his least favorite aspect of the job. He inched the ship the last few steps and sighed as traction from the station caught hold and they were guided into dock.

"Totally textbook." Kirk congratulated him. "Or so I'm assuming."

It was pretty damn close to perfect, if Sulu did say so himself. It made up somewhat for his less than auspicious start with Pike. "Thank you sir."

He eased back into his chair.

They had made it. They were home.

The bridge door opened.

Instead of the relief they expected, an entire team of figures swarmed the bridge. They were clad in black with no insignia or emblem to indicate rank. Both Kirk and Spock stepped forwards to meet them.

"Gentlemen." Kirk said, an edge of hostility in his voice that Sulu hadn't heard since he had appeared on the bridge after being marooned.

The atmosphere on deck was frigid. The crew looked to Kirk: they would follow his lead when dealing with yet another unknown entity.

A single figure stepped forwards. His posture mirrored Kirk's. "James Tiberius Kirk?"

"And you are?"

The man didn't answer.

He gestured to three of his companions who moved forward and seized Kirk by the arms. "Under Article 14, Section 31 of the Starfleet Charter, I hereby remand you in custody to answer charges of mutiny and sedition. You are not entitled to an attorney. You are not entitled to appeal. You will come with us now please."

The cry outrage was unanimous. Crew were on their feet in seconds and the men dressed in black tensed. Kirk put up no fight as he was put in restraints and quickly shook his head when Spock, livid with outrage, took a threatening step forward. "Stand down!" Kirk ordered hastily, seeing the potential for things to devolve rapidly. "That's an order."

"You have no authority to give orders." The man in black said without inflection.

"Fine," Kirk huffed. He stumbled when dragged forwards and had to shake his head again when Spock made a move "Call it a polite request then." Turning as much as he was able in the firm grip of three operatives, he looked imploringly at his XO. "Its fine, I promise."

"Captain, as prior actions state, your definition of fine leaves much to be desired." Kirk actually grinned, despite the men cuffing his hands behind his back. Spock turned his cool rage on the man who seemed to be in charge. "I demand to know under whose authority it is that your lay such charges." Spock deliberately emphasized the use of Kirk's rank. The operatives didn't so much as flinch.

Sulu wished they had seen Spock lose his temper. He imagined they'd be reacting differently.

"I am under no obligation to answer your questions."

Chekov growled something in Russian. Both Kirk and Uhura looked at him in shock. "Chekov! Jesus kid. It's fine. Really. Standard procedure I guess. Sedition is a bit much though, don't you think?" He addressed the last part of his sentence to the men dragging him away.

"You can't do this!" Uhura was also on her feet and she wasn't stilled by Kirk's promises. "He saved the damn planet. You can't arrest him!"

"You will remain here until you are debriefed. Someone will be with you shortly."

Kirk was almost in the turbo lift when he wriggled around and called to Spock. "Could you maybe comm Admiral Barnett? He hates me the least, I think. _I hope…_ and do not tell Bones about this, he'll shit a brick!"

Those inelegant but characteristic words were the last they heard from Kirk before the doors to the lift closed and their Captain was taken from them.

Almost immediately and without exception, the remaining crew rounded on Spock.

"Do something!"

"We can't just let them arrest him!"

"Who the hell were those assholes?"

And most importantly, "Why did Kirk just _go with them?"_

Spock bore the storm of emotions, all heightened by the sense of betrayal Sulu knew they were all feeling. This wasn't what they had expected, even in their worst dreams. A slap on the wrist for most of them. And maybe Kirk would be kicked out of the Fleet at the very, very worst. Not this.

"Silence." Spock held up a hand after several moments and the noise stopped abruptly. "I do not know why this is happening, or to what ends but I promise you I will do all that is within my power to return our Captain to his rightful place and eradicate the dishonor to his name."

Sulu believed every word.

Uhura, surprisingly, was not as easily convinced. "Will they listen to you? In light of the history you and Kirk share?"

Spock's expression was nothing like it had been when he had pinned Kirk down over Sulu's station and choked the life out of him. It was however no less terrifying.

"If Starfleet Command are not willing to accept the word of the Captain's First Officer and his loyal and devoted crew, they will, I assure you, accept the word of every Vulcan aboard this vessel, not least of whom is my father, and his maternal sire, T'Pau, First Minister of Vulcan."

Sulu blinked. He felt a wave of giddy terror descend on him at the implication of Spock's words.

Even the indomitable James Kirk had been no match for one enraged Vulcan. God help Starfleet should Spock decide it necessary to send in reinforcements.

Words had never been Sulu's thing. He lacked Uhura's extensive vocabulary, or Spock's eclectic lexicon. He could offer no input, no support. Just one word.

"Shit."


	6. Spock II

Glad you enjoyed the last part! Only three more to go. Hopefully they will be up by the weekend! Thanks again for all the support! Your comments give me warm fuzzies.

If anyone is interested on other stories on the way, there are some short summaries in my user info. xx

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><p>Spock didn't seek his father and grandmother. Not at first. He went instead to Medical. Nyota followed him with Sulu close behind her. Spock had ordered Chekov to oversee the efforts to disembark and he knew that they had left the young officer in a silent conflict: the boy regarded Kirk as a hero. Kirk, in turn, was neither patronizing nor clumsy when navigating the potentially treacherous waters that developed when someone of Chekov's tender years possessed both a superior intellect and an intensely stressful job.<p>

Spock faintly recalled Captain Pike's expression when Spock had presented him with the bunk allocations for the junior officers. Pavel Chekov and James Kirk had been to share a room. "God help us all." Pike had shaken his head, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes that had only recently begun to make sense.

Along with that memory came the one of Spock's first visitation to Pike after his surgery. Following the fond exasperation he had expressed over Kirk and McCoy's argument in Medical, Spock had presented him with a minutely detailed report of the events surrounding the destruction of the _Narada._ There fondness had given way to a brief but blistering rage, one aimed alternatively at everyone from Kirk to Nero to Spock to himself. Mostly it settled back on Kirk.

With both men confined to beds, Pike had been forced to wait before giving Kirk the dressing down he had clearly wanted to. Of course that revelation had brought about a whole new set of emotions, and Pike had refused to settle until McCoy had allowed him into a chair to witness Kirk's recovery himself.

Kirk had been unconscious still, littered with the wounds he had received while breaking every code of conduct Starfleet had in place.

The juxtaposition between the two captains was startling. The absence of Jim's vibrancy left him boneless and still in the bed, terribly young and uncomfortably vulnerable. By contrast, Pike looked every one of his years, plus a great deal more. He held himself stiffly, brittle and fragile. Not for the first time Spock marveled at how such infinitely breakable beings could function as admirably as they did in such hostile environments. Humans were most remarkable, really.

Eventually Pike had exhaled brokenly and allowed McCoy to take him back to his own biobed. By the time the doctor had allowed Kirk back on duty, Pike had been sleeping more often than not, his immune system at war with the consequences of his torture.

Kirk had, to Spock's knowledge, checking in on Pike frequently, but if they had actually spoken to one another, he remained uninformed of the details.

Spock was gambling a great deal on the data he had witnessed himself and the potential for error was both high and baring disastrous consequences.

As the three bridge crew officers entered sickbay, Spock immediately located McCoy. The doctor looked as if he had just emerged from surgery. His hands still bore the gleam of antibacterial spray; disposable scrubs had replaced his blue uniform. "What the hell?" He questioned, eyes instantly seeking out Kirk and narrowing when he failed to appear at the center of activity. "What's he done this time?"

"We must speak to Captain Pike." Spock insisted, ready to cut down any protests as he saw the irritation cloud McCoy's face. The man might be the most gifted surgeon Spock had ever encountered, but he had a face that could not hide the excessive emotions he so frequently displayed. McCoy represented everything Spock had attempted to deny internally, and Spock found himself most curious to see the doctor outside his natural environment. "It is most urgent."

McCoy looked from Spock to Nyota and Sulu. Neither of them possessed Spock's ability to completely conceal his thoughts and feelings and whatever he saw there leached the color from his face. "What happened?"

"Kirk has been arrested." Sulu said unhappily. "They just came in and took him."

"Who? Who came in and took him? Spock, why the hell didn't you do anything?"

Naturally, McCoy felt this was Spock's fault. He wouldn't be entirely inaccurate. "Please, Doctor. We do not have the luxury of time. Allow us to see Captain Pike and I will explain all that I am able."

McCoy nodded gruffly and followed Spock to Pike's room.

Fortunately Pike was awake and lucid. Spock spared no pleasantries. "Section 31 have arrested Jim for mutiny and sedition." He announced.

There was no time for Pike to formulate a response. Surprise quickly gave way to concern and anger, but as expected, McCoy exploded first.

"Sedition? What the fuck? What did you tell them?" He stepped into Spock's personal space, eyes alight with fury. Spock let the emotions wash over him and absorbed none of them.

"You are certain it was Section 31?" Pike asked urgently. He pushed the covers back and gingerly sat upright. McCoy was too incensed to call him on it.

"I am certain, sir." Spock affirmed. "They as good as announced it themselves."

"Fuck." Pike swore. "McCoy, where the hell did you put my uniform?"

McCoy swiveled on the spot to face him. "I trashed it, sir. Now why the hell are you getting out of bed?"

It was somewhat pleasing to know that McCoy was consistent in his rudeness and ability to insult superior officers.

"You'll find me a clean uniform, Doctor and I won't ask again." Pike ordered. His skin was still flushed with fever and his hands shook violently as he tried to shuffle his way from the bed. Spock wished for nothing more than to see him rested and recovered, his own regard for Pike of the highest caliber. He understood Pike's urgency however, even if the others did not.

Red in the face, McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, not yet ready to back down. He and Kirk were more alike than either of them imagined. "No sir. I'm still acting CMO on this ship and you are still my patient. So you're staying parked in that bed until I'm convinced you won't be sabotaging your own health."

Spock wondered if Pike would match the doctor's tone and volume. Experience said he would not, but he was heavily medicated and most likely suffering from post traumatic stress. The parameters of Spock's expectations had shifted drastically.

"Section 31 are a clandestine branch of Starfleet Intelligence." Pike explained slowly. "They operate autonomously and without any accountability to the rest of the Fleet. If they have arrested Kirk and find him guilty he is not looking at a dishonorable discharge. He will just disappear."

Nyota was the first to respond. Spock could hear the tremor in her voice. "They'll kill him?"

Pike met her gaze steadily. "I honestly do not know. Perhaps." He sounded sympathetic, and Spock could tell Nyota appreciated the truth.

"Are we the only people remembering that Kirk just saved the fucking universe here?" Helmsman Sulu had formed quite a bond with Kirk over the last few days, no doubt cemented by their shared experience on the drill. "You can't just execute someone for saving billions of lives. It doesn't make any damn sense!"

"There is a lot that isn't making any sense here." Pike agreed. "Not least of which is why Section 31 are interested in Jim at all. There isn't actually a precedent for this scale of devastation, but there _are_ procedures in place. Worst case scenarios. Kirk should have been brought up in front of the Admiralty."

Where Pike could intervene.

McCoy had been remarkably quiet since Pike's explanation. He had in fact left the room. Spock only noticed when he returned with a fresh uniform for Pike. Circling the bed, he started to help the Captain dress. "I know Jim's not just another cadet to you." McCoy said softly. "I don't know what it is between the two of you, but if you care for him at all, you'll help him."

Pike grasped McCoy's arm in one trembling hand. "Get me into that chair, Doctor, and I swear to God, I'll bring him back to you."

These were the two men Jim Kirk loved the most. Spock felt unexpectedly like an intruder. He made a gesture to Nyota and Sulu, and the three of them left McCoy to help Pike dress.

As they stood in the quiet of the hallway, the three of them drew quiet strength from each other.

"Its crazy." Sulu laughed, the sound without a single grain of mirth. "I've known Kirk for all of a week, and all I want is to ask him what the hell he'd do about this."

Nyota shook her head. "That's Kirk for you. He's an arrogant, reckless, petulant pain in the ass, but he's one hell of a strategist. He was top of our class in Tactical Analysis and I swear he was hungover in most of the lectures."

Spock cocked his head in surprise. "You maintain your unfavorable opinion of James Kirk, yet you are concerned about his welfare. Forgive me, but I do not understand."

Nor it seem did Nyota. She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I don't know what to make of him any more. I have no idea if he's the Kirk I knew as a cadet, or the one I'd follow to hell and back. Which one is real, which is a lie."

"If you would allow me an observation?" Spock asked. Nyota agreed quickly, both she and Sulu paying careful attention as Spock made an attempt to understand the most perplexing individual in his association. "I believe James Kirk is exactly as you describe him: arrogant, though not without due cause; reckless, I do not believe I need to express much on this point, though I should point out that his recklessness does appear to be primarily an aimed internally; petulant, he does indeed make a very poor loser though again, we should perhaps be grateful. As for a 'pain in the ass' I concur. I have never before met an individual so remarkably skilled at antagonizing those around him. However as First Officer, I again must state that while Captain Kirk may indeed be a 'pain in the ass' he is ours, and we will not allow him to suffer for it."

"True words indeed, Mr Spock." The door behind them had opened and McCoy navigated an exhausted looking Pike into the corridor. "Now then, my brand new ship is by all accounts an absolute wreck and I have yet to shout at the man responsible."

"Poor Kirk." Sulu muttered.

"Poor Kirk, my ass." Pike shook his head. "We're going to find him, get him out of this mess, and then he's going to personally fix every damn dent and scratch on this ship, even if it takes him the next thirty years. I sure as hell won't be up to it."

McCoy and Spock shared a glance. It sounded like Pike had his own ideas for Kirk that had nothing to do with a court martial.

"Aye sir." Spock said. "But since he cannot take responsibility for all of the _Enterprise's_ damage, I feel it only fair that we assist him in the effort."

Pike grinned up at him, the same bright intensity in his eyes that Spock had first seen so many years ago now. "I was hoping you'd say that, Spock."


	7. McCoy II

Deep space flight, as Leonard McCoy was quick to point out to any who would listen, was one of the single most stressful things you could inflict on the human body.

The second most stressful was a prolonged exposure to James Tiberius Kirk.

McCoy would know. During his first semester as an Upperclassman, he'd developed an ulcer and discovered his first grey hair. He blamed both on Jim.

The rate tings were going by the end of the week he'd be grey and suffering from painful gastrointestinal complications. And by the look of things, he would not be the only one.

Pike is pale as snow, knuckles tensed so tightly on the arms of his chair that they were close to popping. Spock looked perfectly unruffled, but that meant nothing. Crazy hobgoblin could have all sorts brewing under that placid surface. Both Uhura and Sulu could probably do with a week's medical leave, a few square meals and a nice sedative to calm their nerves.

He himself was working on ulcer number two.

"Captain Pike, I have a question, if you would not mind answering?"

After beaming down to the surface, they had flagged the closest Fleet transport and commandeered the vessel. What looked like half the population of Earth seemed to have amassed on Starfleet grounds, and navigating the streets was taking exponentially longer than anticipated. Fortunately the windows were tinted, denying the press what would no doubt have made an excellent candid.

The forced inactivity had drained Pike of his adrenaline rush and he seemed to be struggling against his exhaustion. McCoy kept one hand over Pike's shoulder, tricorder ready. He'd accepted a long time ago that when it came to Jim, there were few rules he wouldn't be willing to break. The Hippocratic Oath was clearly one of them. The things he would do for that damn kid…

Spock's question stirred Pike from his dazed headspace. "What is it, Spock?"

Conversation forced concentration. Extra points for the hobgoblin.

"I cannot help but recount the circumstances of my meeting with Jim. I realize now that the angle of my debate with him was perhaps inappropriate. I will of course be retracting my charge of duplicitous activity in light of recent events."

"Why?" Pike asked, curious. "He cheated. He admitted as much."

"And I remain curious as to his reasons." Spock admitted. "I had thought perhaps that he sought to gain recognition and accreditation for being the first to do so, yet I am no longer convinced that is an accurate conclusion."

It was McCoy who answered him. He'd been wanting to defend Jim ever since the damned hearing. "Okay Spock, let me tell you the only thing you will ever need to know about Jim Kirk." He paused for effect and Spock's eyebrow rose in anticipation. "That kid has a pathological need to protect the people he feels responsible for. Your goddamn simulation was telling him time and time again that he had no choice but to accept failure, and the deaths of every member of his crew."

"Fascinating." Spock said after a long pause.

"He's also a piss-poor loser and an arrogant little shit, so yeah, it was never going to end pretty."

Pike chuckled to himself, some of the pallor leaving his face. "He drove you crazy, huh?"

That wasn't even coming close. "Six months." McCoy said darkly, eyes on Spock who he held personally responsible. "All he fucking talked about. I swear to god he replayed at every single sim. that has ever been run and then calculated every other damn variable he could. Months. I'd have smothered him in his sleep if he actually got any. He started talking to himself. In _Klingon_."

"I had no idea he was so dedicated." Spock mused. The new information seemed to take him a moment to process. Good, McCoy thought. About damn time someone looked at the cause and not just the effect.

"That's why he joined the Xenolinguistics Club?" Uhura asked. She had been braiding her hair back out of her face and paused, fingers tense.

"No," McCoy said flatly. "He joined that damn club to flirt with you."

Uhura sighed and continued her braid. "Figures."

McCoy couldn't help but chuckle. "You know I think he'd have run for the hills if you actually took him up on it."

She laughed and completed her task. "Why, is he secretly shy?"

McCoy wished. "God no, but you kicking him down a peg every day was good for his ego and he knew it. Besides, the kid lives for the witty banter."

"You know an awful lot about him, Doctor." Spock observed. It didn't sound like an insult, or even a question. McCoy bristled none the less. He didn't make friendships easily and he was defensive of the ones he did.

"I'm his roommate, his physician and his friend. The combination is rather illuminating."

"You are also his next of kin." Spock said.

McCoy tensed further. "What of it?"

"After removing Kirk from the _Enterprise_ I checked his personnel files to ensure prompt correspondence would be made with his family on Earth. You were the only name listed."

"His family is dead, Spock. As you damn well know." McCoy snapped.

"I was aware only of George Kirk's demise." Spock said earnestly, his scientist head on with a genuine need to know every damn thing, "Please believe I do not ask out of a want for gossip but a genuine desire to understand his person."

He sounded sincere but McCoy wasn't convinced. "So ask him your damn self."

"If you believe he will be forthright, then I shall naturally do so." Spock sounded doubtful.

"We tough shit." McCoy snarled. "You think you're the first person to ask me that? What make Jim tick, how to get inside his head? Fuck you."

"Cool it, McCoy, that's enough." Pike's voice was a sharp and snappish as it was the first time he'd chewed Jim out over an open comm. McCoy had been in the small kitchenette trying to prepare some semblance of a breakfast while the captain had laid into Jim for some ridiculously petty prank that had gotten him a citation and three weeks extra PT. He'd sounded pretty terrifying then, even to McCoy. The effect was not lessened by Pike's physical limitations.

Uhura and Sulu were looking at him like he'd grown an extra head. Even Spock leaned back against the side of the craft, giving McCoy inches of distance he didn't know he needed.

He took a long, steadying breath.

"My apologies, Doctor. It was not my intent to cause you distress."

Just in time to break the tension, McCoy's comm beeped._ Ensign Kevin Riley. _He didn't recognize the name, so forwarded the call to Chapel If it was a medical emergency she could get M'Benga on it.

He then waved off Spock's apology. "Whatever." Needing something else to break the silence that had settled, he turned to Pike. "What's the plan then?"

"I commed Admiral Barnett, he's meeting us a Starfleet Intelligence." Pike explained. "Hopefully he can open up a channel of communication and we can get some answers."

"Kirk did mention that Admiral Barnett 'hated him the least'." Sulu said.

"Kirk's a paranoid bastard." Pike shook his head. "The Admiralty don't hate him." He paused then hastily amended, "Kormac might. But the rest of them don't. They might want to strangle the kid at times, but there's nothing unusual there." Pike raised an eyebrow in Spock's direction.

"Captain Pike, I regret-"

"Leave it Spock. Like I said, you wouldn't be the first person Jim's pissed off. He's clearly not taken it to heart."

Spock looked so doubtful, so wretched, that McCoy was completely unnerved. The universe felt off balance along with Spock, so he found himself offering unexpected reassurance. "Pike's right. And believe me, he takes _everything_ to heart. Never seen anyone hold a grudge quite like Jim."

Jim had met McCoy's ex-wife once and for less than three minutes, yet there were occasional times McCoy thought Jim hated her more than he did. It was both unnerving and heartwarming.

Spock recognized the olive branch McCoy had handed and tilted his head in acceptance.

"Assuming then that Admiral Barnett is able to get us access to those holding Jim, I take it our intention is not to simply exit the building with Jim in our company."

"If it works…" McCoy muttered.

"I'm afraid, ladies and gentlemen, we are just going to have to play things by ear." Pike said, troubled.

McCoy turned his attention to the window and the streets beyond. There had been moments when he'd honestly not expected to ever make it back to Earth. Now here they were, and instead of relief, he felt only a growing sense of dread.

His comm. beeped again. _Ensign Kevin Riley_.

McCoy rejected the call and turned back to the window.

* * *

><p>"Pike. You look like shit."<p>

Admiral Barnett was waiting for them outside Starfleet Intelligence. The building was bland an anonymous, marked only by the Fleet flag flying half mast. McCoy kept a steady hand on Pike's chair, guiding him forward. They all had their game faces on.

"Better than I feel then, sir." Pike's genial humor brought a touch of softness to the harsh lines of Barnett's face.

He reached forward and gripped Pike's arm. "Glad to see you in one piece, Chris. Reports came through that you were MIA, well… let's just say finding a replacement for you would have been a pain in the ass. You know how much I hate holding interviews."

"You're all heart. Really." Pike said dryly, his smile fading as he started to cough. McCoy was on him in an instant, tricorder whirring.

He loaded up a light muscle relaxant and pressed the hypo against Pike's collar. The tightness in his chest eased and he took a long, deep breath.

"Should you be out of Medical at all?" Barnett asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "I know you're worried about Kirk-"

"Kid's my responsibility." Pike wheezed. "I promised I'd look out for him."

Uhura shifted by McCoy's side. He knew exactly what she was thinking. It was the same thing he'd thought right back when he and Kirk were nothing more than occasional drinking buddies. What the hell would someone of Pike's rank and reputation see in a cocky, smart mouthed kid like Jim?

Ultimately he'd figured out some of it, if not all. Jim inspired only two emotions in the people he had prolonged contact with: the desire to hurt, and the desire to protect. No middle grounds. You wanted to strangle him, as Pike had said and Spock had proved, or you wanted to stand between him and the rest of the world. Sometimes both in the same breath, and more often than not it was himself he needed saving from, but either way indifference was impossible.

"Doctor." McCoy flinched when Barnett called his name. He'd been lost in his own thoughts. "You keep an eye on this man, you hear me?"

"Aye sir," McCoy nodded, glad Barnett was here.

"Right then, lets go see what young Mr Kirk has managed to get himself into this time."

McCoy wasn't sure what he expected from the inside of Starfleet Intelligence. People looking shifty, perhaps. Cameras and gadgets and any other number of clichés that existed in those trashy novels Jim kept downloading to his PADD. Brain-dead reading, he called it. Which was apt, because Jim's idea of light reading was Shakespeare. No one read Shakespeare any more. The words didn't make a damn lick of sense.

Ultimately though, the inside of the building was as unremarkable as its exterior. A wide desk sat facing the door, three secretaries manned each section.

"Admiral Barnett here to see Captain Jackson." Barnett stood ramrod straight, his eyes boring down on the pale young man he addressed. To McCoy's surprise, the kid didn't so much as flinch.

"Captain Jackson is otherwise engaged at present, sir." He said calmly. "Perhaps I can take a message and he can respond at his earliest convenience?"

Spock twitched and McCoy hid a smirk. The hobgoblin really was such a stickler for rules and regs.

"That won't be necessary. You can just direct us to his location."

"I'm sorry sir, but I cannot do that."

"Cannot, or will not?" McCoy growled. Both Pike and Barnett frowned in his direction. Uhura poked him hard in the ribs.

The young man still seemed unruffled. "Cannot, sir. I am under no obligation to divulge any information on Captain Jackson, as Admiral Barnett is well aware."

"Indeed," Barnett said mildly. "That's not a problem. We'll wait. Please inform the Captain of our presence. I assume the refectory has not been relocated?"

There were no chairs or waiting areas, so McCoy was surprised when Barnett didn't wait for an answer and led them off down a long corridor.

"Can we be here, sir?" Sulu asked, looking around uneasily.

"Here? Yes." Barnett agreed. "I am a Starfleet Admiral, and this is Starfleet Intelligence."

"But?" McCoy prompted.

"But Section 31 operate on the sub terrain levels, accessible only by DNA analysis. We won't be getting down there without authorization any time soon."

"Your intention is to bring this Captain Jackson to you?" Spock queried.

Barnett suddenly grinned. It was a shocking expression on the face of a man McCoy would have bet credits on having not a single spark of humor in his body.

Jesus, but Jim did manage to win over the crazy ones.

"Precisely."

And with that, he reached over started banging on doors.

* * *

><p>It took twenty minutes of harassing close to everyone in the building. But eventually Jackson made his appearance. Security had been called, but no one quite knew what to make of an Admiral making a nuisance of himself and so they hovered uselessly close by.<p>

Uhura and Sulu had caught on with frightening speed and had taken things to another level. Uhura somehow gained access of the building's PA system and alternatively played obnoxiously loud music and Earth's only Klingon radio station. Sulu dealt with the angry stream of people pouring out into the hallways in a fashion that would have made Jim beam with pride, and McCoy spent most of the time with one eye on Pike and the other offering free inoculations to anyone who was stupid enough to get in hypo reach.

They were all going to end up in a cell next to Jim. The crazy was most certainly catching.

The arrival of their target was met with sighs of relief from the security team. Though they did not have the gonads to fuck with Barnett and Pike, Jackson had both the clout and the inclination to back up any play he made.

"Ah, Malcolm. Fancy seeing you here." Barnett said pleasantly. "Been keeping busy?"

Standing close to Spock's height and with shoulders wider than McCoy's, Jackson looked like a Special Forces poster boy. He had black hair peppered with grey and a stern, uncompromising face. "Drop the act, Barnett, I know you're here for Kirk."

The Unofficial Rescue Team all tensed.

Jackson shook his head in disgust. "I had every right to take him into custody."

"Pardon me, but that is incorrect." Spock stepped forwards, sounding pleasant and friendly when even McCoy could read the tension in his shoulders. "The charges I placed against Captain Kirk were made while suffering an emotional compromise and inability to think or act rationally. As Mr Kirk was already Acting First Officer, he had every right to resist my attempts to subdue his rational and reasoned concerns." McCoy boggled at Spock. He wasn't the only one. Sulu's jaw hung open. "Further more, the report was retracted before being uploaded to the Starfleet server. As such I fail to believe your motivations for this gross miscarriage of justice as anything other than duplicitous."

Which was as close to calling Jackson a lying scumbag as Spock was ever likely to get.

Jackson heard the implication and clearly understood it. "I'm not having this conversation here," he announced. Turning, he headed to the elevator. Since he had not dismissed the argument, they all quickly followed.

They were taken down nine levels. Jackson had to enter his ID and provide a password to authorize their presence. After exiting, they were lead into a hallway lined with men in unmarked uniforms.

Three of them stood outside of one door. Jackson entered his authorization and led them in.

It was horribly bright inside, and McCoy was momentarily blinded. He must have been slow to recover, because Spock's sharp inhalation and Uhura's gasp came before he blinked away the tears in his eyes.

As his vision cleared, his mind filled with a violent haze.

Jim was seated in the center of the room. He was cuffed to a chair and his head sagged forwards, limp and unresponsive.

It was less than four days since McCoy had him on the operating table.

Fear made his hands shake as he rushed forwards. The force with which he dropped to his knees would leave bruises, but he didn't feel a thing, tricorder out and one hand on Jim's throat, feeling for a pulse he was terrified was none existent.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Pike demanded. "He's a Federation Citizen for christsake!"

"He's a Starfleet officer and I am well within my rights to interrogate him." Jackson responded flatly.

"He's a kid!" McCoy screamed, finding a pulse as his eyes scanned over the recordings he was taking. "He's a fucking kid who just saved the fucking planet!"

It was telling how outraged they all were that no one called him on his language. No one but Jim it seemed.

"Not a kid," he slurred. Blue eyes rolled in his head, telling McCoy he was drugged even before the tricorder had given him a reading. "Hey Bones."

"Easy kiddo." McCoy's hand moved from his throat to the side of his face, giving Jim support and something to lean against. "Damnit Jim."

"Damnit Jim." Jim echoed. "Told…told ya he'd say that."

Jim was talking to Jackson, McCoy realized with a start. He wanted to move, shift his body so he was blocking that asshole from sight.

"So you did." Jackson agreed. "You didn't tell me they'd drive half the fucking building up the wall trying to get to you."

Jim blinked slowly. "They did? Whose they?"

"We're here, Captain." Uhura said softly.

"I'm hallucinating. Bones, I'm hallucinating. You're fucking asshole, Jackson. You said no crazy drugs." His eyes were wide with confusion and his whole body flinched when Uhura moved into his line of sight and gently touched his hair.

Jackson snorted. "I didn't give you any crazy drugs you stupid son of a bitch."

"You shouldn't have given him any fucking drugs!" McCoy found himself shouting again. Jim's pulse was far too elevated and his pupils weren't reacting to the small light McCoy shone from the end of his tricorder.

Uhura and Sulu busied themselves with the cuffs holding Jim in place. Two snaps, and he slumped over completely, falling into McCoy's waiting arms.

"Not so loud, Bones." Jim whimpered. "Head hurts."

Yeah, no surprises there. He laid Jim down carefully and took the folded blue uniform Spock handed him to cushion Jim's head.

"I take it you're done here." Pike said coldly. "Because there is no way in hell you're continuing with this torture."

"_Interrogation_." Jackson stressed. "Believe it or not, I'm not the bad guy here."

"Bullshit," Jim slurred. "You suck."

"You want to tell me why you're _interrogating _a goddamn cadet?" Barnett demanded.

The small crew crowded around Jim heard only the highlights of their argument, all their attention on their Captain.

"Hi Spock." Jim blinked up at his XO, his body shaking under McCoy's hands. "Your girlfriend is pretty, I ever tell you that?"

Uhura snorted. "Well I guess you can't be that hurt." She surmised. Her smile dropped though when Kirk tried to sit, his whole body going taunt with pain.

"Be still, Captain." Spock gentled, pushing him firmly down to the floor. When Jim tried to struggle against him and found he couldn't, his eyes widened with a fear his drugged mind could not hide.

McCoy swore and leaned over so he could look Jim in the eye. "Spock's going to let you go, ok? But only if you stay down. Understand?"

He clearly didn't. He didn't blink, just stared up at McCoy in dread.

"Fuck, let him go, Spock." McCoy exhaled. He didn't want to sedate Jim, couldn't actually, not until he'd isolated whatever it was Jackson had used on him, but nor could he allow anyone to hold Jim down.

"That's fucking ridiculous!" Pike's infuriated shout caught their attention. "You actually mean to tell me you arrested a cadet, _my_ cadet, under false pretenses so you could drug him to the eyeballs and _ask him about the future?_ I spent longer on Nero's damn ship than Kirk did and I can tell you as much as he could, which is absolutely zero fuck all!"

"Pike's swearing." Jim's wide eyes looked over at the commotion. "Did I piss him off again?"

"Quite Jimmy." Bones hushed.

"Your cadet," Jackson growled menacingly, towering over Pike, who didn't look in the least intimidated, "beamed aboard a ship traveling at warp with an equation that does not even exist yet. He then proceeds to orchestrate an attack on an enemy vessel using knowledge of a weapon that by today's science is not even plausible, let alone possible. So yes, we took him into custody, because while you were doing fuck all of use we happened to be losing over a third of our fleet. We are vulnerable in ways we have _never_ been before, and we need every advantage we can get." He pointed over at Kirk. "That means knowing whatever it is he knows."

"He doesn't know anything!" McCoy snapped. Jim's skin was clammy. "But what _I_ know is that he needs proper medical attention and he needs it now.

"If I might, Doctor?"

McCoy moved back and let Spock ease Jim up into his arms. No one was more surprised when Jim let him. "Spock told me it would be alright." Jim muttered. "He promised."

They all looked at Spock in surprise. Undeterred, Spock held Jim tighter. "Indeed, Jim. It will be alright." With McCoy running diagnostics by his side, he carried Jim to the door. "We will be leaving now, Captain Kirk also. You are free of course to arrest us if you chose, however I feel it necessary to inform you that as the son of Vulcan's ambassador to Earth I enjoy diplomatic immunity, and any move to incarcerate me will result in great discomfort for yourself at the hands of the Vulcan High Council."

"This isn't over," Jackson shook his head. He stepped away from the door though, willing to let them all pass.

"Yes," Barnett said, "I believe it is."


	8. Uhura II

Oops! Sorry for the delay again! Been battered by the flu. This one is long, fairly angsty and touches on some nasty issues, though nothing explicitly. We're very nearly there! Thank you so much for the support, I'm slightly overwhelmed!

* * *

><p>Jim's condition rapidly deteriorated on the shuttle ride to Starfleet Medical. McCoy had his hands full with both Captains, Pike having worn himself thin in the few hours he'd been active. Spock, being Spock and therefore knowing more than a little about a great deal of things, was trusted with McCoy's spare tricorder and appointed Pike's overseer on the strict condition that if anything beeped, he was to alert McCoy instantly. The doctor's one set of eyes and hands seemed to be of great irritation to him, but he kept on top of both patients with a terrifying ease. It was no surprise, given how he'd taken control of a leaderless sickbay during the attacks and not only given them direction, but from all accounts ran the most efficient battlefield triage centre in recent times.<p>

Uhura recalled Spock saying similar to the Captain on his return to duty. Kirk hadn't so much as blinked, but responded with a rather infantile, "Duh, have you _met_ Bones? The man is Hannibal with a hypospray." That unshakable faith in his friend was more than merited, it seemed.

"Christ, Jim. Just once I'd like to not have to worry about that screwy brain of yours exploding." He muttered, one hand on Kirk's shoulder, both comforting and restraining in equal measure. Kirk was restless and fidgety when he wasn't seizing, and Uhura had found herself designated caregiver for a man she'd rather push off a bridge than share any physical contact with.

Which didn't really explain why, as well as hold Kirk in her lap to try and still his body while McCoy worked, she had started to run her fingers gently through his short hair.

Kirk had reacted to the gesture with shock, wide, startling blue eyes fixed on her but clearly not seeing a thing. He'd looked completely stunned, his whole body tensing until she hesitantly tried again. Finding the compassionate centre that even a playboy like Kirk couldn't erase, she used her most soothing voice to whisper in his ear. "It's okay, Kir...Jim. It's alright."

The soft words had the desired effect. She'd half expected him to sneak in a quick grope - his head pillowed against her thighs - but he did nothing more than turn his cheek into her palm and gradually began to settle.

"Keep doing that." McCoy barked, hand moving from Jim's shoulder to his throat to feel his pulse the old fashioned way. "That's it Jimmy, calm down."

"Mm calm." Jim muttered exhaustedly into Uhura's chest about the same time his whole body tensed and gave way to a brief but terrifying seizure that left him clammy and trembling in her arms. The naked, unexpected vulnerability left Uhura feeling equally unsteady. This was not Kirk. Even the man they had found in Jackson's interrogation room bore more of a resemblance to the cocky, loud mouthed, jerk she knew.

As Kirk gazed up at her with unconcealed adoration, she wondered exactly who he was seeing. There was a struggle in his eyes that suggested he hadn't yet given in to the drug and was trying desperately to cling to his sense of self. "Jackson's an asshole." He mumbled. "Even mom said so, and she knew assholes."

The words drew her curiosity. Next to nothing was known about Winnona Kirk after her husband had died.

"Your mom is not the person you need to be thinking about now, kiddo." McCoy said in a strangely gentle voice.

Kirk grimaced, his body seizing again and his hand clutching at Uhura's in a grip that was sure to leave bruises. It passed, slower this time, and there was less of a fight in his eyes when he was finally able to open them.

"Do something!" Uhura found herself snapping at McCoy. She readied herself for one of the doctor's biting retorts but McCoy said nothing, his eyes fixed on Jim, who was no longer looking at Uhura, but at something over the doctor's shoulder.

"Hey!" McCoy snapped his fingers in front of Jim's face. "Look at me, Jim."

Jim didn't. "Bones..." He transferred his grip to the front of McCoy's blues. The look of fear she had seen earlier was back and Uhura was lost as to its cause. Kirk hadn't looked scared when facing down Nero, he hadn't even blinked when Spock tried to kill him. Until today, she would have sworn that true fear was an emotion a spoilt, arrogant boy like Jim Kirk had never experienced in his life. "Bones... I think I'm going crazy."

"You're not crazy, kid. You've been drugged. Remember Jackson?"

"Asshole." Jim said empathetically. Uhura agreed wholeheartedly. "Thought he could make me talk..." Jim continued, his eyes suddenly burning with a rage that took Uhura's breath away. "I won't tell. He can't make me. I'll _never_ tell him where they are."

She was surprised when he was able to raise himself from her arms, and more surprised when he positioned himself firmly in front of both her and Sulu, protecting them from whatever it was he was seeing.

Uhura's confusion was matched by the agony on McCoy's face. "I know kid. You did good, Jimmy."

Jim lurched forward with so much strength Uhura couldn't restrain him. He launched himself at McCoy, hands tight on his shoulders and his face inches from his friend's. "They're safe? You found them?"

Uhura reached for Jim but was stilled by McCoy's sudden shake of the head.

But it was Pike who spoke, Pike, who despite his own failing health and seen and heard all. Pike, who understood in a way only Jim and McCoy did. "They're safe son, you can stand down now. You're all safe."

Jim turned in McCoy's arms, eyes dark and wild, all pupil and a rim of unearthly blue. "I know you." He said to Pike, accusation and distrust in every word. "You were there when they sent me away. You let them."

"And you have no idea how sorry I am, Jim. You really don't." Pike looked terribly old and immeasurably sad.

McCoy still had his arms around Jim, but no longer to restrain him. The rage died down to something much more like the man they all knew, cocky and full of sass. "That why you get me into the Academy? You need to appease all that guilt?"

"If that's what you need to think." Pike shrugged his shoulders, leaning on Spock more with every moment. "You know I didn't recognise you when I saw you in that bar."

"Miracle what a few square meals will do." Jim said nastily. "That and a dozen punches to the face."

Pike flinched at the hit, but carried on regardless. "But no, it isn't why I fought to get you in. And I _did_ have to fight. You are your own worst enemy, son."

Jim shoved McCoy away from him and it took Sulu to jump in to actually hold Jim back from giving in to the rage that burned in his eyes. "I can think of a few people who'd disagree with you there."

"I'm sure you could." Pike said sadly. "I _am_ sorry, Jim. You have to believe that."

Jim stopped trying to fight against Uhura, McCoy and Sulu. The fact that he was even able to resist them at all in his current state was as impressive as it was alarming. The rage was less surprising than the target. Everyone knew Jim respected Pike, and even Uhura, who knew next to nothing about who Jim Kirk really was, knew that there were probably unresolved daddy issues there, ones that seemed to be far more complicated than anyone could have guessed, by the looks of things. "Right. Everyone's sorry for poor little orphan Jim. Well fuck you. I'm not your son and I ain't gonna tell you a fucking thing. You wanna kill me, go ahead."

"Doctor McCoy, I believe the Captain is suffering from delusions." Spock gently pushed Pike down when he tried to move towards Jim. He shared a look with McCoy, who had his hands full and an expression of agonised impotence on his face. Clearly the things Jim was seeing and struggling against were a product of the drug, and his own very dark thoughts.

McCoy, who had his arms full of a furious, violent Jim, could only snap back with "No shit." He turned an angry glare at Pike. "Any bright ideas?"

Pike nodded sadly. "I'm not Kodos, Jim."

Bile rose in Uhura's throat. Sulu swore and there were tears in McCoy's eyes that he didn't try to hide. Most shocking was Jim's reaction. He stilled completely, cocked his head and studied Pike. "No, I guess you're not." The rage subsided and he stopped struggling. "Man, Jackson's a fucking asshole." He said for the fifth time. "I hate being drugged."

He looked pitiful now, shaking and sick. That wild animal had retreated behind beguiling blue eyes and distractingly handsome face.

"_I_ hate you being drugged, moron. You gonna stop trying to break my arm now?" McCoy looked pale and it was only then that Uhura saw the grip Jim had on the doctor's arm. Jim drew up short, eyes wide and regretful.

"Sorry Bones." He released the grip and gently patted McCoy's arm. "Sorry."

"S'okay Jimmy." McCoy shook off the apologies, unable to look Jim in the eye.

"Fuck me, my head hurts." Jim whimpered, not resisting when he was pushed back down into Uhura's arms. This time, she wrapped them both around him and held him close, stroking his hair without a second thought.

"I bet."

"Did I drink Romulan Ale again? Because I thought we agreed that was a bad idea."

"Again? Sulu said, eyebrow raised. Uhura didn't want to know.

"Long story." McCoy muttered as Jim said:

"Blame Bones!"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Pike shook his head in exasperation. "Do you two actually pay attention to _any_ of the Academy rules?"

"The Academy has rules?" Jim blinked up innocently. He looked confused and slightly stunned. "Bones, why is Uhura stroking my hair?"

"Shut up and enjoy it." She said, voice not as harsh as the words she spoke.

"Am I dead?" Jim blinked again. "Because that is the only way this makes any sense."

_You wanna kill me, go ahead._

_"_You're going to be fine." She said, not thinking about the things Jim had said or the very nasty implications they had. "Just be calm."

"Mm calm." Jim said, sounding exhausted again. "I think I'm gonna puke."

Uhura's nose wrinkled in distaste and they all breathed a sigh of relief as they finally pulled into Starfleet Medical and the sudden rush of noise and people drew Jim's attention away from his rebelling stomach. He did exactly as promised, and threw up on the first EMT who tried to move him from Uhura's arms.

She, Spock and Sulu were left behind in the foyer as Pike and Kirk were whisked away, McCoy a well known entity in the hospital and barking orders at the assembling professionals.

It wasn't until they were alone that Uhura realised how much her body ached. Exhaustion was creeping up on her again and it was harder to ignore now there was no distraction.

Sulu looked as bad as she felt, his shoulders slumped and the bags under his eyes black and heavy. "So. Kodos huh? That actually explains a hell of a lot."

Spock, who hadn't displayed any emotion when Pike had said the name in the shuttle, crossed his hands behind his back and stood tall. "Indeed it does." He said softly.

* * *

><p>Somehow the brass found them half an hour after they had arrived. Uhura had been nursing a burnt coffee, occupying the seat between Sulu and Spock as they waited for news. She's been flagging, feeling a lot like a flower that hadn't seen water in a long time. The arrival of spit-shined and buttoned up escorts hadn't had the effect on her it once might have.<p>

The three of them were escorted to the Fleet offices and hauled up in front of a line up of Admirals, one after another. Barnett was there, but gave no indication of recognising her. He'd not travelled with them to Medical.

The grilling had been intense, every action questioned and every thought cross-examined. Surprisingly it hadn't seemed like they were trying to trip her up, but just determined to root out the facts from the hyperbole.

She did her best to provide them with an unbiased account.

Eventually though, they called proceedings to an end. She snapped to attention, body ridged and aching.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Archer had said, rings under his eyes suggesting his own exhaustion. "Your actions do you a great credit."

"Sirs." Uhura accepted the compliment graciously.

"One more thing," Barnett said before they dismissed her. "Kirk. Your opinion?"

She hesitated. "Professionally or personally, sir?"

Kormac barked, "Both!"

Her shoulders straightened. "Professionally I think he's a skilled and dedicated leader. He takes risks, but for the good of his crew. He genuinely has their best interests at heart, despite what it might look like."

The Admirals shared a glance before Archer prompted her to continue.

"Personally..." she paused. Did the things she had learned today changed the way she felt about him? "I have never liked him." Then the image of Jim shaking in her arms came back, sharp as the bile that had burned her throat when he'd started talking to Kodos as if he was in the shuttle with them. She hastily added, "That is of course no comment on my respect for him as an officer."

"You respect him?" Archer pushed.

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"I don't believe the means justify the ends," Uhura admitted. In fact, she abhorred the way Kirk had manipulated Spock. "But in the Academy we were taught that a good leader makes the tough calls. The decisions no one else can. Kirk did that, and if he hadn't, we'd all be dead."

Silence prevailed.

Then:

"Thank you lieutenant. Dismissed."

Sulu was waiting for her outside. So was McCoy. He'd changed into his uniform but looked ready to keel over. "How are they?" She asked.

McCoy shook his head and stepped into the line of fire.

Spock had been summoned to see his father, and Sulu insisted on seeing her home, which caused a great deal of furore with the press that had taken over the campus.

Once he had left her and the door had closed behind him, she sagged against the wall and hot, scalding tears began to roll down her cheeks.

A set of Gaila's favourite lingerie was draped over the end of her bed. They hadn't had a dorm inspection in over a week, and her roommate had gotten pretty lax.

The sudden knowledge she would never get the chance to frown disapprovingly at Gaila's antics made the dam that had built inside of her burst. Stripping out of her uniform, she pulled on a sweater and crawled under the covers of her bed. With her arms clutched to her chest, she tried to comfort herself against all the horrible thoughts circling in her head.

Then finally, she slept.

* * *

><p>She slept for seventeen hours. It was only the chime of her door that dragged her from the deepest slumber she could recall having, and it took a moment for her brain to process where she was or what was happening.<p>

Still dressed in the sweater, she knew she must look a sight but answered the door none the less.

Jim Kirk was stood waiting, a crate of beer under one arm, a stack of take out in the other, and a smile devoid of his usual obnoxious charm. "Figured you'd not have eaten."

She hadn't. Not since before her last shift, and before they'd reached Earth. That seemed so long ago.

She let him in without a word and he headed straight for the small kitchenette, knowing without asking where to find plates and cutlery. She wondered exactly how often he'd spent time with Gaila while she was in the labs of with Spock. Given the way Jim was pointedly not looking at Gaila's bed, she didn't have the heart to ask him.

"We could go someplace else, if you like?" She got the feeling she wasn't going to be able to shake him off this time. She didn't actually want to. The silence was agonising, and she'd take even Kirk's company if it meant a respite.

He smiled gratefully but shook his head. "It's a goddamn circus out there. Trust me, we out to dinner and it will make the news. Then Spock really will kill me."

"I'm sure McCoy would put you back together again." She smiled, helping him set out the vast amount of food he had brought.

"You're kidding, right? I get so much as a hangnail and he'll put me in a chemical coma until I'm ninety."

Uhura wouldn't blame the doctor if he did. How often had Kirk needed his care in the last week? It must be exhausting being his physician as well as his best friend.

"Please tell me he's not still at the hospital." She'd grown rather fond of the rough around the edges doctor, and it was hard not to respect the loyalty the man had shown Jim.

"Nope. Silly bastard passed out mid rant. Got himself a dressing down from the Surgeon General and strict orders to stay in bed for the next twenty-four hours. When I left him he was snoozing like a baby." Kirk's expression was incredibly fond. The lack of intent behind his smile made it all that much more attractive.

On closer inspection, he looked remarkably well for someone who had been through as much as he had in the last few days. The bruises were gone, as were the bags under his eyes. His shoulders were once more straight and proud, and the scared, angry little boy she'd glimpsed earlier might well have been a figment of her imagination. Jim Kirk was strong and golden and brilliant to look upon.

He caught her looking and instead of a leer, he scratched the back of his head self-consciously. "Yeah, they figured it wouldn't make good PR if I looked like I'd fallen down the side of a cliff. Wonders of modern medicine."

"You look good." She said warmly. "Better. You had us worried."

Jim cleared his throat, desperately uncomfortable. He snatched up a rice dish and shoved it across the table towards her. "You should really try this."

She took the dish and tried a bite. The sudden rush of flavours made her stomach rumble loudly. Jim laughed in delight and ducked away from the half-hearted punch.

The meal that followed was one of the most relaxed and surprising she'd had in years. When he dropped the cocky front, Jim was funny and smart and far less obnoxious. That wasn't to say he didn't drive her mad, but the arguments he started were the type shared between friends debating a subject and less a point scoring exercise.

When all the food was gone, she'd had the lions share. Jim sat back and patted his stomach. "Okay, I'm not sure I can actually move right now."

Uhura made a dismissive wave of her hand. Moving was not even close to the top of her list of things to do.

They drank the beer and the pleasant buzz was exactly what she needed to take away the edge of hysteria and pain that she hadn't even known was lurking below the surface.

Still, she had to ask. "Why did you come here tonight?"

Once upon a time, she'd have thought it was a play to get her into bed.

Kirk sat up in his seat, all business now. "They're giving me command." He said quietly. The excitement in his eyes was shadowed by so many other emotions it was impossible to read him completely.

It took a minute for the words to sink in.

Command. At twenty five. It was unprecedented. It was _insane_.

Kirk continued. "I mean, its as much a PR play as anything, but yeah." He leaned closer, blazing blue eyes fixed on hers. "I want you as my Comms Officer."

Her jaw dropped. That was equally unprecedented. She didn't have the experience and there were so many ways it could go wrong.

"I don't-"

"Look," Jim said earnestly. "I know we have had our differences. You hate me, I get it. Hell, I deserve it."

"I don't hate you." She said softly. How could she?

He shook his head. "No, let me say this. I'm a jerk, I know I am."

"You kinda are."

He smiled gently and she felt like she'd forgive him anything. "But I mean it. I think you're incredible, and no I'm not hitting on you right now, lesson learned." His smile turned rueful and he touched his neck almost self-consciously. She reached out and took his head, pulled it away and set it down on the table.

"I don't know what to say. I'm faltered, and Jim, what you did _was_ incredible, but I don't…I don't know who you are anymore. I don't know if I can trust in not knowing that."

It sounded far worse than she intended it to. He pulled his hand back and nodded. "Okay." The warmth left his eyes and he settled back in his chair. "Okay. Full disclosure. Ask me anything. If I can tell you, I will. If I can't, you just have to trust I me. Can you do that? I meant what I said, I want you on my crew and if that means answering some awkward questions…" he looked resigned, "then it'll be worth it."

If she was a better person, she'd have recoiled at the weariness in his eyes.

She wasn't, and she also meant what she said. The opportunity he was offering was a once in a lifetime deal, but she couldn't just latch on blindly, not when there was the potential that Kirk was a ticking time bomb waiting to take them all with him.

"You were on Tarsus IV." She jumped right in at the deep end.

Jim blinked, shocked. "How'd you know that?"

"You were talking to Kodos in the shuttle."

The knowledge clearly perturbed him. "Huh." He said, taking a long, shuddering breath. "Asshole." That was aimed at Jackson no doubt. "Yeah, okay then. I was there."

"You were thirteen." She could do the math. Had done almost as soon as Kodos' name had been uttered.

"Yeah." Jim said.

Uhura reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" he asked surprised.

Why? Why not? "You were so young."

He shrugged. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Why were you there?"

Jim bit his lip and she almost told him to forget the whole thing. She didn't need to know and it wasn't right to push.

But she wondered if maybe he needed to tell someone. She didn't know what to do.

Jim started to drum his fingers under her hand. "When my dad died," he started, "my mom went a little nuts. She was only dirtside long enough to pick up my brother Sam. We grew up on ships, in one form or another."

Which explained why Jim was so at home in space, why he knew so much about departments that he had no cause to.

"What was she trying to do?" Uhura asked, encouraging him with a smile.

Jim shrugged again. "Find the ship that destroyed _The Kelvin. _ She dragged us to every corner of the galaxy on the slightest off chance of information. She was obsessed. The Fleet humoured her. Both she and my dad were from decorated families, and besides, she was smart enough to manipulate things her own way."

"So that's where you got it from?" She teased.

Jim grinned ruefully. "Pretty much. Anyway, things got pretty rough for us. She made a lot of friends and twice a many enemies. That's how I knew Jackson before all this bullshit."

"She was Section 31?"

"Who the fuck knows? Anyway, Sam – my brother – and I were taken hostage by some petty crock she'd screwed over. They damn near killed us, but she agreed to an exchange. Last time I saw her she was walking towards her death, pissed as hell, but she smiled at me. I was ten."

It seemed like all the Kirks were Big Damn Heroes. Her heart ached for him. "Is that when you were sent to Tarsus?"

Jim shook his head. "No, we were sent to stay with her brother for a few years. He was an asshole. Sam ran away, I did some stupid stuff." His expression brightened, "You know I was like this perfect kid when I was young. Good grades, never got into any trouble."

"I don't believe it." A gentle tease that he gratefully grabbed a hold of.

"Pike can tell you." Jim nodded eagerly.

"So you did know him before you enlisted." That had been driving all of them nuts for months now.

"Yeah." Jim agreed. "Like I said, Frank was an asshole. Got himself banged up when I was thirteen and met a fantastically sticky end on the inside. Cons still don't like kiddie fiddlers. Pike wanted to take me in after that, took it to the state and everything, but I still had living relatives and the Fleet wasn't keen for it to get out that they hadn't been looking out for their Golden Boy's youngest. They shipped me out to Tarsus to stay with my dad's sister."

The bile was back, as were the sting of tears. Jim seemed completely unperturbed by the horrors he was so casually revealing about his childhood, but his gaze was miles away.

"God, Jim."

"Its no big deal." Jim assured her, blinking away the memories and squeezing her hand reassuringly. "It was years ago, I dealt with it."

She highly doubted that was the case but she let him continue.

"Tarsus was…well you know the basics and that's enough. By the time they rescued us I pretty much hated the whole world and everyone in it. I'd mellowed out a bit by the time we met, but Pike didn't recognise me when he fished me up off the floor."

He'd been off his face drunk when they'd met. Drunk, but harmless, right up until someone bigger and meaner had picked a fight, and then he'd lashed out with that rage and hurt she'd seen in his eyes when he lay in her arms.

"So there you have it. All the dirty details. Kinda."

There was just one more thing she needed to know. "Do you want to be Captain?"

"I do." He said softly. And he did, she could see it in his eyes. He wanted it with all his heart.

"Why?"

There were so many reasons she could see. A need to prove himself, and need to lose himself, and what was it McCoy had said? A pathological need to protect the people he cared for.

Which explained his answer. "I don't like bullies. We're in a bad way, Uhura, you have to know that. Right now every eye in the Federation – and outside of it – are waiting to see our next move, and if we fuck it up, we _fuck it up_." He held her gaze steadily and Uhura finally got what he was trying to tell her.

He knew what it was like to be a victim, but that wasn't who he _was_ and the Brass had given him command for that very reason. Kirk wasn't prey he was a predator. Someone who could take every hit you threw at him and bounce back up and rip your throat out with his teeth if he had to.

It was too much to get her head around. She needed to think. She needed to talk to Spock. He'd been her sounding board for so long now.

Jim read her expression and stood, the chair scrapping back against the floor. "I'll let you think about it."

She nodded numbly but stood and saw him to the door.

"Thank you." She said before he left. "For dinner." The door slid open and he turned back as he stepped through.

All the seriousness was stripped from his expression and the smile he gave her was one from their long and volatile history. "Does this mean I can call you Nyota." He beamed at her.

The door slid closed on that wide, white grin. "Good night, Captain."

She could hear his laugh in the hall and waited until it faded away.


	9. Spock III

Here we are, the final part! Thanks again so much for sticking with me, despite the long delays. I hope you have all enjoyed reading as much as I have writing. Xx

(Some of the details mentioned in regards to Kirk's time at the Academy is lifted from the Starfleet Academy Series.)

* * *

><p>Spock had been meditating in his apartment when Nyota called. His father and members of the Council were staying with him while they were on Earth, so he suggested they visit the campus refectory in order to make her more comfortable. He had thought often of introducing her to his parents in the past, knowing he would be relying on his mother's gentle excitement to soothe his father's distaste of the match. Now, he doubted Sarek would be so disinclined to his son's choice in partner, being so raw from the loss of his own. For that reason, Spock could not bring himself to act as propriety said he should. Nyota did not need his explanation and merely agreed with only the suggestion that they visit the cafe in Cochrane Hall, as it was well protected from the press.<p>

Once settled, he with a tea and she with a frothy chai latte, they sat together in companionable silence until she found the words to express her thoughts. "Kirk brought me dinner last night."

Spock inclined his head. "Yes, he commed to inform me of such. I believe he was attempting to provide me with assurance that his motivations in seeking your company were purely innocent."

Jim had sounded most uncomfortable, not quite asking permission, but clearly unwilling to cross any more boundaries with Spock. Spock found he appreciated the thought, as unexpected as it was.

"I doubt anything Jim Kirk does is innocent." Nyota shook her head. Her hair was loose and curled over her shoulders, a slight wave to it that suggested she had showered and then slept before drying it. It was also one of the few times he had seen her out of cadet reds or other Fleet apparel. He found the pale pink sweater she wore to be surprisingly pleasant to look at and resolved to see he had more occasions to witness her out of uniform. "You know they gave him command?"

Spock was aware. He had actually been a great advocate for such a move, despite what some of the Admiralty had expected. "I had been informed such a decision had been made. I believe it to be the correct one, given the extraordinary circumstances we find ourselves in. The Federation is wounded, it needs a balm and a protector, and I do not believe there are any in service who will perform that duty with the same profound dedication as James Kirk."

She took a long sip of her drink and licked away a spot of foam from the corner of her lips. A rush of affection filled him and warmed him faster than the beverage in his hands.

"Kirk said that, about us being wounded." She admitted. "We talked a lot, last night. He told me things..." She broke off, unable to finish the sentence, clearly shaken. "Did you know? About his childhood?"

Spock did not. "I was aware of only the very basics. His personnel file is well detailed, but omissions have clearly been made in certain records. One must simply 'read between the lines' as you say."

"Like Tarsus?"

"No. The events that took place on Tarsus IV are in the public domain, though granted, not widely accessible. Sometimes it is best to hide things in plain sight." A file with as many gaps as Kirk's would need to protect all his secrets would only raise red flags across the board. Spock was most curious to see Kirk's psychological evaluations, but while they had been available and of little interest to him a week ago, they were now sealed with a security clearance higher than his own.

Nyota bit the edge of her nail, something she only did when upset or agitated. "He didn't say much about it. Just that it was enough that I knew he was there." She shuddered and held her mug tighter to her body. "I looked up some of the files…"

Spock found himself grateful for Jim's silence on the details. Nyota was no means sheltered or innocent, but there were some things he wished, irrationally, _illogically_, he could protect her from. The realities of what the survivors of Tarsus IV had been subjected to were just one of many.

Kirk's file had been vague, stating only that his name had been listed on Kodos's termination list, and that he was one of only nine to survive the genocide. Since leaving Kirk at Starfleet Medical, Spock had done his own research, cross referencing other files until he understood that Kirk was the eldest of those who had been rescued, and that along with severe dehydration and emaciation, he bore indicators of prolonged and brutal abuse. He had been placed into counselling upon his return to Earth, and cleared six months later by a thoroughly negligent psychological professional before returning to rural Iowa, where he had led an unremarkable life punctuated by arrests for disorderly behaviour, aggravated assault and public indecency. No charges had ever been held against him.

"That seems understandable." Spock took a sip of his tea. It was a flavor that both he and Captain Pike favored. Its origin was a hardy flora from Pike's locale of the Mojave. The sweet robust taste was familiar and warming. He had still only managed two sips before Nyota had finished her drink. She seemed chilled, despite the humidity in the air and the thick sweater she wore. Spock ordered her a replacement and she smiled gratefully. "You are unsatisfied with his silence on the matter?"

"No," She shook her head but hesitated. "I just…. he said he wants me for his Comms Officer."

"A most logical choice." Spock complimented. She was most qualified and had more than proven herself during the encounter with Nero. "He has requested all of the staff serving during our recent mission, including Mr Scott, a matter I believe was met with great disapproval by Admiral Archer." Actually, Jim had surprised everyone when, minutes after being offered Captaincy, had straightened his shoulders and accepted the post on the sole condition that he all those who had stood with him against Nero be given the choice to take up their positions on a permanent basis. He had been most adamant about Scott.

"I'll bet." Nyota smiled.

Spock considered her carefully before continuing. "When they denied his request for Chief of Engineering, he thanked them and refused commission."

Nyota blinked in disbelief. "He blackmailed the Admiralty? Of course he did, he's Kirk. Oh my god, how are we not all in the brig?" It was most unlike her to be prone to such hyperbole. Spock excused it on account of her most obvious exhaustion and emotional stress.

"They agreed, of course."

"Of course." She looked down at her cup in disgust. "See, that's the Kirk I know. Things have to be his way."

"Is that why you are reluctant to take the position?" He didn't need to employ his skills as a telepath to read her thoughts on the matter. Anyone else in the same position would jump at the chance being offered her. But then perhaps Kirk would not be making it if she _were_ anyone else.

"What do the others think?" She asked.

Spock had not been privy to any of the decision-making processes, but he was aware that Nyota was the only member of Kirk's senior staff who had yet to accept their post. McCoy had been first on, though that was no doubt on account that Kirk's post as Captain would be tragically short without his doctor in continuous attendance. Jim hadn't even had to ask.

"Their decisions should not affect yours." Spock admonished gently.

She raised her head and looked at him with deep, dark eyes he found so fascinatingly aesthetic. "What about you?"

"He asked." Spock admitted. In true Jim Kirk fashion, there had been no hesitation, he had just looked Spock in the eye and said "_I need you by my side."_

"You said no?"

"I did." A sudden rush of uncertainty filled him. He had been so sure when making his response to Kirk based on all the logical reasons. "I must assist my people, you understand?"

Her face filled with compassion. She was very like Amanda in that respect. Her own desires were so quick to be overridden by those of the people she loved. "I understand." She said. "We could have done with you, of course. Can't imagine anyone else in the Fleet who can keep Kirk in line.

Spock noted the way she used her words and felt a swell of relief. Nyota was the most gifted linguist he knew of - she had millions of words at her disposal and never misused a single one. Her mind was made up, even if she was not admitting to it.

Spock drank the last of his tea and the two sat together in silence. He would miss her once she left. He would miss a great many things, it would seem.

* * *

><p>He was pleased to see Jim looking much improved upon their next meeting. Out of uniform for the first time in their short acquaintance, Spock almost did not recognise him as he walked hand in hand with a small, dark haired human girl of perhaps five years of age. He wore jeans and a white long sleeved top. Sunglasses and a leather jacket completed the appearance. Besides him, Doctor McCoy was similarly dressed, though without the jacket.<p>

"Captain." Spock said, stopping before them on the dewy grass of the Academy forecourt.

Jim's expression shifted from rapt attention to a beaming smile. "Spock! Hey, how are you?"

"I believe I should be asking you a similar question." Spock deflected. The little girl holding Jim's hand stared up at him with wide, dark eyes. Their shape and coloring was remarkably familiar...

"Come on, Joanna." McCoy picked the child up and she reluctantly released Jim's hand. "Let's leave Uncle Jim and Mr Spock in peace."

"I'll catch you later ok, kiddo?" Jim said with a grateful smile. "Spock and I gotta talk about boring stuff, but when we're done how about we sneak some ice cream past your old man?"

McCoy rolled his eyes but didn't protest. He was smiling, wide and happy. Spock had never seen such an expression of joy.

Jo agreed quickly and wrapped her arms around her father's neck so she could wave to Jim over McCoy's shoulder.

Jim waved back merrily, his smile fixed and barely moving when he hissed to Spock, "Wave already!"

Which was how Spock found himself waving for the first time in his life. Odd that he did not want to disappoint either Jim or the child.

Once they were out of sight, Spock dropped his hand.

"Thanks Spock. I swear, that kid has me wrapped around her little finger." Jim's expression was fond. He pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. Spock was pleased to see him free from bruising and as vibrantly handsome as he had been when they met. The evidence of his despicable violence had been difficult to overlook while still painted across Jim's face. "So really, how are you?"

"I am fine, thank you Captain."

Jim laughed. "Seriously? You save my ass from Jackson and let me puke on your shoes and you still can't call me Jim?"

"I am fine, thank you Jim." Spock said.

Jim's smile twitched wider. "There you go. Hey, you wanna grab a coffee? I'm trying to go incognito here, but the press have camped out in front of the dorms and taken over the cafeteria."

The very idea that Jim could pass by without attracting attention was frankly absurd. The human was a supernova in the centre of space – quite literally impossible to overlook.

Still, Spock followed Jim's lead and found himself in the same spot he shared with Nyota, another tea in his hands while Jim drank from an alarmingly large mug of black coffee.

"I do not believe consuming that much stimulant in one go is healthy." Spock frowned.

Jim shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, that's what Bones says. Doesn't stop him from drinking ten cups a day. Besides, it's this or one of those shitty energy drinks and those things make me pee florescent. Last time it was blue. Piss should not be blue, man. Unless you're Andorian, but even then I doubt it glows in the dark."

"Are you not getting sufficient rest?" Spock found himself concerned and overlooking Jim's babble. Humans needed a great deal of time for sleep and they tended to suffer dramatically when denied it.

"I'm sleeping just great." Jim promised with a slight roll of his eyes that Spock had come to recognize from all Kirk's interactions with a concerned Doctor McCoy. "Now, answer the question. How are _you_?"

"As I said, I am -"

"You said 'fine'." Jim interrupted him. "Which means fuck all, according to you."

Being pinned with those sharp, knowing eyes was terribly uncomfortable. "Indeed." Spock said. "Then I am as well as can be expected, given the circumstances."

"I bet." Jim said, his eyes going soft with compassion. "Look, I know we aren't exactly buddies, but if you need anything, or want to talk, whatever..." The offer hung between them in a silence that threatened to become uncomfortable. Spock took it as intended, however and thanked Jim.

"I understand that Lieutenant Uhura has accepted your offer." Spock changed the subject with poor deflection but was pleased when Jim allowed it.

"Yep. We're almost there." Satisfaction settled over Jim's features, along with a surprising calmness.

"You have selected a First Officer?" Spock inquired, curious.

"Not yet." Jim said. "Archer and Barnett can't seem to decide who they want to inflict me on - I think they are routing through their shit list for someone that pisses them off as much as I do."

"I doubt that is a long list."

"See, I knew you had a sense of humor." Jim chuckled.

"I was merely making an observation."

"Sure." Jim drained the dregs of his coffee. Spock did not order him a second as he had Nyota for fear of him overdosing on caffeine.

He finished his own drink, and they both stood. "Thank you for your company."

"Any time." Jim smiled. It was disconcerting, being on the receiving end of so many of them. "Look, I just wanted to-"

Whatever Jim wanted to say was cut off by someone loudly calling his name.

"Captain Kirk! Captain Kirk!" A mask of professionalism slid over Jim's face and the smile vanished. He turned as the shouting continued, "Kirk! Damnit, Jimmy!"

The man leaning in the door of the cafe was a Starfleet Officer. He had served in the Stellar Cartography Department and shared a dorm with Ensign Chekov. _Riley, Kevin_, Spock's memory provided. He clutched at the frame of the door, breathing heavily.

Jim cocked his head curiously before the color suddenly leached from his face. "_Kevin?_"

A handful of years younger than Jim, Kevin Riley could not hide his emotions as Jim's recognition suddenly spurred him into movement. He launched himself across the space between them and caught Jim in a bone jarring embrace.

Jim recovered rapidly and returned the affection being shown to him. His arms wrapped around Riley's back and he buried his face against the neat, dark hair under his cheek. "What-?"

He sounded stunned and refused to release Kevin's arms, even when they placed some distance between themselves.

"I knew it was you!" Riley beamed at him, a sheen of tears in his green eyes. "I knew it as soon as I heard your voice." Kirk's mouth opened and closed. "_I knew it_."

"I...Kevin?" Jim's inability to complete a sentence was startling. He was almost as eloquent as Nyota.

"I can't believe it. God Jimmy, you look amazing! I've been trying to get in contact with you for days now but I swear they have you locked up tighter than a Deltan Priestess' Virginity. I can't believe you enlisted. And you were there the whole time. Tommy swore I was imagining things but I knew it was you."

The boy was babbling, his words tripping over themselves in their haste to be expressed, while Jim continued to stare at him, completely dumbfounded. He suddenly jerked and pulled Kevin closer. "Tommy's here?"

Kevin frowned. "Of course he is!"

And then to Spock's shock, tears began to roll silently down Jim's cheeks.

There was no dramatic outburst, no shuddering breaths, just steady tears. Spock, who was not best skilled at dealing with outcries of human emotions at the best of times, was horrified when Kevin followed suit, leaving him with two distraught humans in a very public location.

Both ignored him completely when he suggested they seek a more private venue so instead he placed a hand on Jim's back and gently propelled him back into the bowls of the coffee shop. As Jim seemed reluctant to release Kevin, they both ended up in the shadow of a booth, and Spock managed to block most of the world from their sight with his own body.

He then commed McCoy. This was beyond his area of expertise. It was only logical to call in a specialist. McCoy was both the most emotional man Spock knew, and also the foremost authority on James Kirk.

The doctor started to swear before remembering his daughter's presence, abruptly transforming his words into ludicrous metaphors that made absolutely no sense and had little context. He ended the call with a promise to make all haste.

By the time Spock was done, Jim had his arms back around Kevin and was clinging on for dear life. It took Spock's superior hearing to catch the words being muttered into the collar of Kevin's shirt. "I'm sorry. I thought...I should have tried harder. I should have..."

"Done what?" Kevin asked, sounding older than Jim in that moment. "You saved us. What else were you supposed to do?"

"I should have looked after you guys."

"Looked after...Christ, Jimmy!" Kevin looked anguished. "They let us see you, after we were picked up. We all thought you were going do die, you were so sick. We thought..." he shook his head and clutched ay Jim's back. "They said you needed to be left alone, to heal. To get better. After what he did to you... we just wanted you to be okay."

"I'm okay," Jim said, his voice small.

"Yeah." Kevin grinned. "Saving the world again." He shook his head ruefully. "I swear, when your voice come over the comms during that whole _Narada_ mess, I thought I was hallucinating."

That drew Jim up short with a look of horror. "Wait. _Wait_, you were on board?"

"Sure." Kevin said easily. "Me and Tommy both."

"Oh Jesus Christ." Jim said faintly. Spock quickly pushed him down into the booth. Jim blinked up at him in shock. "Aw hell, sorry Spock. Kevin Riley, this is Spock, Spock, Kevin Riley."

Spock inclined his head. "We have met, Jim."

"You have?" Jim looked confused.

"Commander Spock oversaw all the departments after we docked." Kevin said, nodding respectfully at Spock.

"Well I fail as a Captain." Jim muttered darkly. He ordered another extra large coffee from the barista, a tea for Spock and on Kevin's word, a flat white coffee.

"You were otherwise engaged." Spock said dryly, accepting the tea.

Jim glared up at him, already halfway into his coffee. "Not really the point." He said.

Kevin looked at Spock with exasperation before nudging Jim's shoulder. "Did you really get arrested?" He asked, taking a seat next to Jim and fiddling with the unopened sugar packet on the saucer.

"Does everyone know about that?"

"Section 31 operates in complete secrecy." Spock said, "So naturally the entire ship is aware of what happened."

Jim snorted and rolled his eyes. He muttered something about a warped Vulcan sense of humor just as McCoy stormed into the cafe, his daughter on his hip.

"We all wanted to march on Starfleet Intelligence." Kevin grinned. "Mr Scott had some pretty good ideas of how to spring you if more legitimate attempts failed."

"Thank god you didn't. Archer would have strung me up. One mutiny a mission is enough I think." Jim looked perturbed by the very idea. He automatically held out his arms and compensated for the child that launched herself at him, small arms wrapping around his neck. She touched the dried tear tracks on his cheek and her lip wobbled.

"Are you alright Uncle Jim?" she asked, reflecting her father's compassion in a way that was far more endearing.

Jim turned his best, brightest smile on her. "I'm peaches and cream, Joanna Banana. I thought your daddy was taking you to the zoo?" He said that pointedly to McCoy, who didn't look the least bit apologetic.

"The hobgoblin called me." He said, glancing curiously at Spock.

"What's a hobgoblin?" Joanna asked innocently.

"Your daddy is being mean to Mr Spock." Jim said, winking at Spock. Jo turned reproachful eyes on her father as McCoy spluttered.

Instead of answering the question in his daughter's face, McCoy looked at Kevin and frowned. "Who are you?" He asked rudely.

Kevin stood. "Kevin Riley." He held out his hand, which McCoy shook, more out of a habit for the standard human social interactions than any desire to be polite, Spock suspected.

"You're the Ensign that's been comming me night and day."

"What?" Jim frowned up at his friend. "Bones, you never said."

"Said what? Half the Federation is comming me on a daily basis. You'd know if you actually turned yours on for longer than five minutes." Jim cringed at the hit.

"I thought we already established that I suck at comms.?" Jim said with a sheepish smile. He turned to Kevin. "Why didn't you just hunt me down?"

"I did!" Kevin said exasperatedly. "See, this is me hunting you down."

"We've been dirtside for three days!"

"An you've been playing hide and seek with half the Federation's media ever since you were released from Medical." McCoy said dryly.

"Uncle Jim's the best at Hide and Seek." Joanna grinned at Spock as if letting him in on a secret only the two of them shared.

"Don't I know it." Both Kevin and McCoy muttered together. Jim's eyes widened in alarm.

"Why do I get the feeling that you two knowing each other is going to be bad for my sanity?"

McCoy looked Kevin up and down with a critical eye. "Ensign, right?"

"Yes sir?" Kevin frowned, that fact having been established already.

"Keep up to date with your inoculations?"

Joanna giggled. Jim poked her teasingly in the ribs in retaliation and the giggles turned wild.

"To the best of my knowledge." Said Kevin.

"How do you feel about quarterly physicals?"

"Uncomfortable but necessary?"

"Teacher's pet." Jim muttered, scowling at Kevin in a manner Spock suspected was not genuine.

"Quite Jimmy." McCoy and Kevin glared at him.

Jim turned to Spock. "Can I come with you? Please?"

There were hundreds of ways Spock could have put him down with a dry, subtle cut. Words formed on his tongue but were lost as Jim fixed him with a look of mild panic, eyes wide and bluer than a summer's sky.

So instead, he simply quirked an eyebrow. It was all the answer he needed to give.

Leaving Jim to flounder until Joanna McCoy patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Uncle Jim," she said seriously. "I'll protect you."

The sound Jim made was suspiciously like a whimper. If Spock were a man prone to smiling, this would have been the time he would have done so.

He stood, inclined his head and left Jim with an amused Kevin Riley on one side, a stern McCoy on the other, and a giggling child on his lap.

There were many of the Admiralty who would, Spock thought, pay a considerable sum to see what he was seeing.

That thought alone brought him great satisfaction for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>The following weeks were a parade of pomp and ceremony. There were memorials held for both the Fleet members who were killed and Vulcan. Spock was in the unique position of having to attend them all for proprietary sake if nothing else. Jim Kirk attended almost as many, dragged out in front of the watching worlds as a symbol of Earth's heroism and a blazing icon of Starfleet's brightest new hopes. He played the dutiful soldier to perfection. Smiling when they told him to smile, radiating strength and compassion at every moment.<p>

Spock found himself seeking Jim's presence at every event, relishing the balm he was to frayed Vulcan nerves, and missing him desperately when he was not in attendance.

He began showing up far less frequently, occupied, McCoy said with annoyance and irrational anger, with 'Captain Shit 101'.

Kirk had been a brilliant cadet and a promising future Fleet Captain. His classmates all agreed that the promotion was only inevitable, and his academic record reflected his suitability for the position. He had been Captain of Delta Team, the Advanced Tactical Training program that accepted only the very best of the Command Corps. That had been as a first year cadet - a feat rare in a program where over fifty percent of those enrolled failed to even complete. Delta Team had been victorious following brilliant performances against their rivals, and Kirk had been a popular and well-respected leader among his peers.

Even the upper echelons of the Academy had been invested in Kirk's future career - he had had been a favorite for rapid promotion as soon as the first of his assessments began to accumulate.

It had always been a matter of when, not if, Kirk would one day captain his own ship.

He was well trained and possessed more accumulated sim. training hours than any other senior cadet. He loved what he did with a passion that was blinding.

What he lacked was the years of postings in real situations. Even as a fast track officer, he would have served on multiple ships, in many different positions, before being made Captain. The youngest in the Fleet had been thirty-three. Many had expected Jim to beat that by a year at least.

But Captain at twenty-five was setting a whole new precedent. One that needed careful handling.

So Jim had vanished into an intense two months of off world training while _The Enterprise_ had been undergoing repairs. His time on Earth grew less and less frequent as he was subjected to every training scheme and mentorship the Admiralty could think of in the hope of imparting years of knowledge into a few short weeks.

Few doubted Jim's ability to retain all he was learning.

Almost three weeks after last seeing Jim at an Admiralty press conference, and only an hour after he officially received his commission and command of _The Enterprise_, Spock found himself. So to speak.

His encounter with his elderly self had been momentarily shocking but greatly enlightening.

He had taken refuge in one of the observation decks at the Academy, a long standing favorite place to seek silence and peace while a cadet, and a place he had shared many enjoyable hours with Nyota.

It was empty as was usual for such a late hour, and Spock spent the night in quiet thought, his eyes on the stars.

The following morning, with only a word to Admiral Pike, Spock stepped onto the bridge of the Enterprise.

Jim accepted him into his crew with the same warmth Spock had come to associate with him, and settling into the Science Station felt like the most natural action he could ever perform.

And as they vanished into the depths of the unknown, Sulu at the Helm and Chekov beside him, nose deep in equations; Nyota tapped away at her station, unable to hide her smile, and Doctor McCoy paced, a half smile touching his lips when he believed no one was looking. Mr Scott appeared shortly after their departure, Ensign Riley at his side, while Mr Guiotto spoke quietly to Ensign Leighton as the two planned how protect their new ship from the whims of a captain who easily got boredom.

Surveying it all, radiating happiness like a small sun, Jim Kirk appeared by Spock's side. "Welcome home, Mr Spock." He said quietly, eyes on his crew. He meant every word: this was Jim's home - quite possibly the first home he had ever had. And he wanted it to be Spock's also.

Spock would spend the next five years with this man. He would, he calculated, be equally awed and exasperated by him. The anticipation was a rush he had never expected.

"Indeed, Captain." He said.

Jim hit the comm. "This is Captain James Kirk. Many of you know me as 'moron', 'asshole' 'or that bastard who slept with my _insert appropriate lifeform here_'. Catch me on a good day and we're not on duty, I may still answer to them all..." Nyota snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Oh for the love of..." McCoy threw his hands in the air dramatically.

Jim winked at him then turned serious. "Every single person on this ship is here for a reason - it is because you are the best at what you do. Those of you who were at the Academy with me will know that I will know that I am going to demand better. I want everything you've got, and in return, I will give you everything I am. The next five years are going to challenge us in ways we can't possibly imagine. It is my belief that we can meet each and every one of those challenges and kick them in their collective asses so long as we remember who we are and why we are here. It will be my honor to serve with each of you and I will do everything in my power to do you all proud. Kirk out."

There was a collective silence on the bridge. Kirk turned, eyes wide and hesitant. "What? Wait, Bones...are you crying?"

McCoy's growl was subhuman. A perfect match for the way Kirk's mouth stretched into an impossibly wide smile.

"I think he is just shocked to see you masquerading as a responsible adult." Nyota said, tagging a cheeky 'Captain,' onto the end of her sentence.

"I wouldn't go that far." Kirk shuddered. He dropped down into the Captain's chair with a boyish grin and clap of his hands. "Right then, lets go find some fun."

"I do not believe the pursuit of pleasurable recreation is the aim of this specific mission, Captain." Spock informed the human.

"I'm reading between the lines, Mr Spock." Jim beamed at him.

"Indeed, sir."

Kirk turned his head. "Hey Scotty?"

"Aye Captain?"

"Let's stretch our girl's legs."

A slightly deranged cackle of laughter echoed away as Scott returned to Engineering, a perfect match to Jim's expression.

Spock turned his attention to his station. Assuming they all survived their captain, this would be a most fascinating five years.

THE END


End file.
